


DARKER

by blueenvelopes935



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Battle of Coruscant, Do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side, F/M, Great Galactic War, Old Republic Era, Old School Sith, SWTOR, Sith Empire, Yes it ends like you think but not for the reasons you know, Ziost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 177,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueenvelopes935/pseuds/blueenvelopes935
Summary: Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Malgus the New? It’s not a story a Jedi would tell you, and if they did, they would tell it wrong. It’s a Sith legend. Darth Malgus was a Sith lord so powerful and so ambitious that even among his own kind he was distrusted. He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side but his true distinction lay in his ideas that were far ahead of his time. This Sith lusted for change as much as he lusted for power. But he lusted for a woman most of all. AU Twi'lek girl meets Ye Olde Sith and the course of history changes.





	1. Chapter 1

FOREWORD

 

I usually write notes at the conclusion of my stories, but since this tale began only to languish unfinished for months, I feel as though I owe readers an explanation.   

 

After _The_ _Last Jedi_ came out, I got sidetracked on two Reylo stories ( _Tied on a String_ and _Son of Darkness_ ).  But Reylo is out of my system, and it is time to return to the Old Sith Empire and to one of my favorite Siths, Darth Malgus.  His story really captured my imagination when I ran across his name in one of those “Who is Snoke?” internet speculation posts.   One theory had Malgus as Snoke.  A few clicks later, I was convinced that idea was wrong but I was enthralled by Malgus himself.  While I am a longtime SW fan, I have never read any of the EU materials and I do not play videogames.  Malgus wasn’t in the movies, so I had no idea who he was.  But as I learned more, I couldn’t wait to write his story. 

 

Thank you to anyone who has waited patiently for this story to resume.  All in all, I think the hiatus from this story will improve it.  I rush my Reylo.  It’s easy to write and easy to rush.  But this story will not be rushed.  I want to devote time to make it meaningful.  So bear with me as it unfolds.  I am rewriting a bit as I go.  Nothing major—but some tweaks, to be sure.  The revised chapters will be posted before the new stuff comes. 

 

Okay, stop reading now and go watch this “Deceived” LucasArts trailer for the Old Republic video game starring Darth Malgus.   Get an impression of the man as the Lucasfilm guys envisioned him.

 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdgmH9Vv2-I>

 

That’s our hero and his Sith posse attacking the Jedi Temple in the Battle for Coruscant.  Malgus calmly walks in.  That’s pretty much how he enters every room.   And, when it’s over, he calmly walks out. 

 

Malgus is not a man taking shape.  He is a man fully formed with decades of experience navigating his life.  He’s made mistakes—big ones.  And he has regrets, too.  But they do not define who he is or what he wants.  He also has success, even if there are plenty of goals left to achieve. 

 

Malgus wants what a Sith always wants:  power.  He has plenty, but it’s not enough, of course.  Malgus wants to defeat the Republic in the Great Galactic War so the Sith can rule the galaxy.  But little by little as his frustrations grow, Malgus finds a new, even bolder goal:   He wants to rule the Sith.  When we meet him, he’s trying to advance up the ranks from within.  By the time my story ends, he will begin to abandon that strategy. 

 

The sacking of the Coruscant Jedi Temple shown in the trailer is a turning point in Malgus’ life.   It will occur near the end of my story.  The fallout from that battle—both personally and professionally—will set Malgus on a new course.  This story is about the events leading up to that moment.  About a Sith stalled in his war, frustrated in his career, and in a rut in his personal life.  It’s an ordinary day for Malgus until suddenly everything changes for the worse.  Of course, it all begins when our Sith meets a girl. 

 

‘Girl meets Sith’ is my favorite storyline.  History buff Darth Ren meets his girl when he’s visiting an old battlefield looking for answers ( _Ghosts of the Pas_ t), Senate candidate Darth Sidious meets his girl when he’s feeling a bit rebellious and wanders into a strip club ( _Red_ ), Darth Plagueis meets his girl when he is disturbed at meditation in his Naboo temple by a Jedi who accidentally barges in ( _Fifth Wife_ ).   And Darth Malgus?   Our hero meets his girl when she unwittingly tries to kill him. That always gets a Sith’s attention. 

 

This story is my own alternative universe loosely adapted from various synopses of the EU legends material. Details will be left out or rearranged.  Some things will outright change.  Don’t let my inconsistencies, timeline variations, and eccentricities trouble you.  This is a Sith legend, and the truth of the matter as told in my tale will not be how things unfold in the canon materials. 

 

SW canon tells us that Darth Malgus discovered a young, abused Twi’lek slave girl named Eleena Daru who he took for his own.   Malgus and Eleena ultimately became lovers, companions, and comrades in arms.  It was a twisted relationship, with suggestions of emotional and physical abuse.  Malgus feared his love for Eleena was a weakness unbecoming a Sith.  His rivals knew of the relationship and used it against him.  To resolve the issue, Malgus killed his lover by driving a lightsaber through her heart.  She was his greatest weakness in life, but his greatest strength in death.  For the self-inflicted pain of her loss fueled the rage of Darth Malgus, increasing his power and making him DARKER.   Love for power trumped love for Eleena in the end.  At least, that’s what Lord Malgus would want you to believe.  Malgus the public Sith and Malgus the private man are not the same, you see . . .

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Serve the master first.  Remember that.  It’s important.” 

 

Eleena nods her understanding.  “Yes, Sir.”

 

“Step forward when the master beckons and offer the drinks.  Offer first to the master and he will take the blue cup.  Then offer the red cup to our guest.  Got that?  Blue to the master and red to his guest.  It’s important the master gets the right cup.”

 

Eleena nods again, feeling a bit bewildered by this formal protocol.  But she has never been to the master’s fancy country estate before, so this must be how things are done.  Curious about the special guest who merits so much pre-planning, Eleena asks, “Who is the master’s guest?”

 

The senior servant gives her a sharp, almost suspicious look before he answers.  “The master does business with him.  His name does not concern you.  But supposedly he is friendly with non-humans. That’s why you are here.  All our domestic help are humans, of course,” the head of household says with a sniff of disdain.   Even servants can be snobs, Eleena knows.  No matter how lowly you get, there is always a pecking order.  “You are the only alien female the master owns and so you were the only choice to help impress his guest.  We want him to feel at home and be especially comfortable for this . . . er . . .  negotiation.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”  Eleena dutifully nods again.

 

“This is a one-time thing,” the man warns.  “You’ll be back in the warehouse this afternoon, understand?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Eleena repeats.  She always says yes.  A life of servitude means getting along as best as you can.  Whether you like it or not, you must always appear to agree.  Slaves can have differing opinions.  They just can’t state them. 

 

And now, she and the head servant wait.  The man looks very nervous, pacing back and forth as he keeps sneaking peeks out the window.  He appears filled with dread at the prospect of Eleena serving a drink to the master and his visitor.  From this, Eleena surmises that either the master is a hypercritical taskmaster or this head servant guy is very high strung.  

 

Looking around while she cools her heels, Eleena observes, “This place is beautiful.”  The exquisite villa they are in is a far cry from the dingy shipping warehouses where she lives and works.  “I’ve never seen any place so beautiful.”

 

“The master lives very well,” the man agrees.  “Be careful and don’t touch anything, got it?  And keep those lekku under control.  They’re gross.  Don’t let them near anything.”

 

Eleena nods and flushes.   She reaches self-consciously to smooth the two long fleshy tendrils that hang down her back.

 

And now, the man has more cutting commentary for her.  “Look at you.  Couldn’t we at least find something else for you to wear?”  His eyes flit critically over her standard issue flame retardant red jumpsuit with ‘Barrabas Logistics’ writ large across the front in navy letters.  Eleena has taken off her hardhat but she still wears her safety work boots.  It makes it very obvious that she is not normal household staff.  “You are conspicuous,” the man frowns, looking up at her.  “That may provoke concern.”

 

“The housemaid’s outfit wouldn’t fit,” Eleena explains weakly.

 

“Yes, I can see that.  You’re the biggest Twi’lek I’ve ever seen.  I thought they said you were a clerk.  You look like you could be a stevedore,” he smirks.  “I guess I know why you don’t belong to a Hutt.” 

 

Eleena feels her face grow hot.  “We aren’t all dancing girls,” she says softly. 

 

“You sure aren’t.”  The man steps back to the window now.  “Good.  They’re here.”  The senior servant starts fiddling with the two cups that are already filled and ready to be served.  His hands are trembling, Eleena notices.  “Here you go.”  The man offers over the small tray with the cups to Eleena.  He adds a few more instructions now.  “When you enter, stand near the doorway in the master’s line of sight.  Do not speak or fidget.  He hates it when servants fidget.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Remember—the blue cup goes to the master.  Offer to the master first.”  When Eleena nods, he takes a deep breath and gestures to the door.  “Alright, get going.”

 

Eleena does as she is told, stepping through the doorway into the adjacent room.  There are two human men standing inside, talking in low tones.  They each glance towards her briefly and then resume their conversation.  Both men are tall and middle aged with the aura of status and power clinging to them.  Both are dressed in princely dark colored robes, one in black and one in burgundy.  Eleena sees the man wearing black shoot her a quick second look. 

 

And wait—which one is the master?  Eleena has never met the man who owns her.  He never once has visited the warehouses where she works.  Is the master the bald man in black?  He looks as if he doesn’t go out much for his skin is very, very pale.  He has strong features with deep set eyes, a wide and lined forehead, and a prominent aquiline nose.  The other man has a full head of greying blonde hair.  He looks much thinner and considerably less distinctive than his companion, but he is handsome too.

 

Which is the guest?   Eleena still doesn't know.  So she waits beside the door to be told what to do.  She has been a slave all her life and she knows better than to make assumptions.   Especially given all the fuss over simply offering a drink.

 

“Come, my friend.  Let us have a drink before we talk business.”   The man in burgundy now snaps his fingers impatiently at her.  Yes, she would have guessed wrong.  Eleena would have guessed the man in black.  But the man in burgundy must be the master since he is acting as host.  Now is her cue to approach. 

 

Grasping the tray firmly for balance, she walks forward to do her appointed task.  She crosses the room and snags her steel toed boot briefly on the edge of a rug.  No matter--it’s only a brief wobble.  Only a few drops of the drink slosh over and it’s only from the red cup.  It splashes on her fingers and she surreptitiously wipes the small splatter up as best as she can with her palm.  Still, the master is displeased as he watches.  He takes his blue cup and waits for her to offer the red cup to his guest.  Then the master takes a drink and sets his own aside. 

 

Eleena is waiting to be dismissed but first she gets a dressing down.  Now, she thinks she understands why the head servant was so nervous.  “Clumsy woman!  Go back to the warehouse,” the master orders.  He punctuates his words with a brutal backhand.  Eleena is not expecting this, but she has quick reflexes.  She neatly ducks the swipe.  Then she sways and steps back to avoid the incoming fist that follows.  All the while, she is careful to keep her hands down by her sides.  Slaves who attack their masters face certain death.  She cannot fight back and she cannot defend herself.  But she can attempt to avoid injury, at least. 

 

This strategy has worked before but in this instance, it’s a bad call.  Eleena realizes belatedly that she should have just taken the first hit and gotten it over with.  For the master is truly angry now.  Embarrassed to look ineffective in his own home before his honored guest. 

 

The man in black watches without comment. 

 

“My lord, you must treat them firmly,” the master says as he grabs successfully for her upper arm.  Eleena drops the tray now and it clatters loudly to the floor.  “I’m sure a man in your line of work will agree.  Discipline is necessary for order.  Now hold still, slave!”

 

Eleena does as she is told and then recoils hard from the hit to her jaw.  But she keeps her footing and that makes her somewhat perversely proud.    Her face stings but her fingers on her left hand do too oddly enough.   She looks down at them, seeing the angry red mottled skin that looks like it is burning.  Her palm feels like it is burning too.  Eleena looks again at her hand and then her eyes find the red cup in the unsuspecting guest’s grip. 

 

“Don’t drink that!” Eleena hollers suddenly.   Then, she leaps to swat the red cup from the guest’s hand.  And that sets off a chain of events which she does not understand. 

 

Suddenly, the master produces a blaster that he aims at the guest and fires.  Somehow, he misses.  But other people flood the room now and they are firing weapons too.  While the newcomers ambush the man in the black, the master turns to her and fires.   She is hit.   As Eleena slumps to her knees and her senses fade, she hears a strange snap followed by a hiss and a buzz.  Is she dying?   She must be dying.  In the distance, Eleena hears more blaster fire and then someone screams good and loud.  Is she dying?  Yes, she is dying.  Maybe that is her screaming in agony.  She isn’t sure.  But Eleena fights it. For while she is too smart to confront her condition as a slave, she now has nothing left to lose.  It takes supreme effort and she only succeeds in opening her eyes briefly.  She has a faint impression of angry yellow eyes and a blur of red.  And none of that makes sense.  But then, Eleena falls face forward to the ground and knows no more.

 

It could be minutes, maybe hours, or even days before she reopens her eyes.  Eleena can’t tell.  But as she blinks awake her adrenaline rushes back.  “Where am I?” she croaks out at the unfamiliar man who leans over her. 

 

She is lying on a couch in a room she doesn’t recognize.  Immediately, Eleena starts thrashing about.

 

“Rest easy.  You were stunned with a blaster.”  The strange man turns over his shoulder to order to someone waiting, “Page the bridge.  He asked to be told when she was awake.”  Seeing her hand reach up to her jaw, the stranger instructs, “Leave it.  That bacta patch is for where you took a punch.  There are two more on your left hand from the acid.  You also have a slight flashburn on your chest from where you got stunned so close.”  The man gestures to her shoulder and Eleena sees that her jumpsuit has been unzipped and pulled down to her waist, revealing her skimpy tanktop underneath.  Another sticky bacta patch has been placed beneath its left strap.  “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t a few inches lower,” the stranger tells her.  “Even a stun bolt can kill at close range to the heart.”

 

Eleena struggles to sit up.  She starts looking around.  “Where am I?” she asks again as a door slides open.  In strides the man in black who had been her master’s honored guest.  The man to whom she had served the red cup. 

 

“Oh,” Eleena breathes out.  She doesn’t know what to make of this.

 

The stranger helping her now stands respectfully to his feet.  “My lord.”  He bows his head.

 

“Where am I?” Eleena repeats the question yet again, this time to the newcomer she recognizes.  Whoever this man is, he is clearly the boss.

 

“You are on my cruiser,” comes his response.  The man in black is imposing as he looms tall and stately overhead.  It might be all the shiny black armor he has on now, but this man looks burly with a massive barrel chest and powerful thick limbs.  Every inch of him from the neck down is covered in black.  It is a startling contrast to his blue-white skin.  He informs her curtly, “Your master Barrabas is dead.”

 

Dead?  Eleena blinks at this news.  And is it wrong of her to be a bit glad?  Her jaw still hurts from the man’s punch.  But as her mind starts processing the implications, Eleena becomes more and more alarmed.  “Oh Gods,” she exclaims, reflexively reaching a hand to the back of her neck.  “They’ll think I killed the master and fled . . . ”  Like all slaves, Eleena wears an implanted transmitter that can be triggered to explode.   It is also a means to track her movements.  For a slave, there is no escape.

 

Her master’s guest clearly understands the gesture, for he assures her, “Your slave collar has been disabled.  If you wish, it can be removed.  Henceforth, you are free.” 

 

“F-Free?” Eleena repeats, still not understanding.  None of this makes sense.

 

“Thank you for the warning,” the guest tells her.  “Although it was unnecessary.  I knew of the plot.  You, however, did not.  I assume you were meant to be a distraction or a fall guy to be offered up for punishment to our side if Barrabas had actually succeeded.” 

 

“P-Plot??”

 

“Barrabas intended to incapacitate me with an acid poison until you came along and ruined it.  Then he panicked and stupidly tried to stun me.”

 

“W-Why?”

 

The man shrugs.  “Credits, I presume.   Like many shipping merchants, Barrabas played both sides of the current war.  The Republic apparently paid him more than we do and so he sided with them.  Barrabas was foolish to get talked into such an unimpressive ruse.  He only had five men backing him up.”  The man in black clearly perceives this lack of firepower as something of a personal slight.

 

“The war . . . “  Looking around with some context now, Eleena realizes for the first time that her surroundings look very military.  So does the grey and black uniform of the medic standing at attention over her.  “This isn’t the R-Republic, is it?” she asks warily.

 

“No,” the man answers proudly.  “This is the Empire and we are the Sith.”

 

“O-Oh . . .”  Her eyes widen.  “The Sith . . .”   She’s seen the newsfeeds.  She’s heard the stories.  Eleena knows to be afraid of these men and their violent cause.  Plus, the Sith are known for their prejudice against non-human species like herself.  Eleena takes a deep breath and looks down in dismay.  What has she gotten herself into?

 

“What is your name?” the man in charge asks her. 

 

“Eleena,” she answers softly.  “I am Eleena Daru.”

 

“Eleena,” he repeats back in deep gravelly tones.  Their eyes lock.  He smiles suddenly and it completely transforms his face.   In the fleeting moment, the furrow between his brows and the lines across his forehead disappear.  The man looks ten years younger and much less authoritative.  But then the mask of command quickly descends.  As suddenly as it had appeared, the smile is gone.  Once again, the corners of his mouth point down.  “What is your skill?” he probes.  “Clearly, it’s not serving in a household staff.”

 

“I work in the Barrabas Logistics warehouses.  I’m an accountant.  Bills of lading, manifests and shipping documents, inventory control . . . that sort of thing.”

 

“You are educated for a slave,” he observes with a raised eyebrow.

 

She nods.   “My last master was a Muun banker.  They like to get their credit’s worth out of their assets, even the sentient ones.  I was traded to Barrabas as part of a loan transaction five years ago.”

 

The man nods thoughtfully.   “You have a viable profession.  You should be able to support yourself in freedom, then.”

 

“F-Freedom . . . “ she echoes softly.  It’s not a concept Eleena has ever seriously contemplated and suddenly it seems a scary thing.  To be completely responsible for yourself on your own is not an experience she has ever had.   “Oh.”  Eleena doesn’t know what to say.  This is happening very fast.

 

The man in black armor smirks at this reaction.  “Freedom is supposedly the big selling point of the Republic, but you don’t look particularly happy to be free,” he observes pointedly.

 

“Until now, I have been a slave, not a citizen,” Eleena answers him bitterly.  “None of the Republic’s freedoms ever mattered to me.”

 

He considers this a moment before he suggests, “You should probably stay on a neutral world or a Sith world just to be safe in case you are considered to be a runaway.”

 

Yes . . . that’s good advice.  Eleena swallows hard and hazards a hopeful look up at the Sith-allied businessman or whatever this man’s job is.  He had looked like a businessman before but now he is dressed more like he’s about to march into battle.  Her eyes sweep his impressive armor and elegant black cape.  It’s kind of scary, to be honest.  Still, she is bold and asks for a job anyway.  “Is your company h-hiring by any chance?  I’m very good at what I do.”

 

Again, the man flashes that brief, disarming smile.  He’s like a different person when he smiles.  He looks almost amused at her question.  “I have no need of an accountant.  We will drop you on the next neutral world with some credits.  We will see you settled someplace safe in a new life.”  He gives her an approving look and is it her imagination or does his gaze linger momentarily on her faded, tight tank top?   Sitting up half-undressed like she is now, her cleavage is hanging out everywhere.   Eleena feels herself redden.  Suddenly self-conscious, she starts pulling up her jumpsuit to hide her bulging chest.

 

“Why did you take me with you?” she asks, still befuddled at this turn of events.  For why would this man bother to take an incapacitated slave woman back with him?  Why would he take that risk when his own life was a stake?

 

“Freedom is your reward for attempting to warn me,” the man answers.  Then he purposefully holds her gaze.  “Unlike most of my brethren, I value loyalty.  The culture of betrayal that pervades the Sith is the scourge of my kind.”

 

“Okay.  Thank you . . . I guess . . . “ she stammers, not really understanding at all.  She doesn’t know much about the secretive Sith and she is still coming to grips with what has transpired.  “Who are you?”  It occurs to Eleena that she doesn’t even know this man’s name.

 

“I am called Malgus.”

 

“Malgus.”  Eleena blinks and sucks in a quick breath.  She and the rest of the galaxy have heard this man’s name.  Malgus is one of the most wanted enemy warriors in the decades old war.  “Malgus as in Darth Malgus, the Sith Lord?” she squeaks out.  “The man from Korriban and Alderaan?” 

 

And as soon as she says these words, Eleena heaves herself over the back of the couch to land on her feet. She starts slowly backing away.  There’s not really anywhere to go.  But it feels better just to put some space between her and the newly revealed fugitive Dark lord.  That such a man has been her savior has Eleena very confused.

 

“You are quite agile,” the Sith observes thoughtfully.  “And you dodged angry Barrabas easily enough.  Have you ever been trained in combat?”

 

“I’m an accountant,” she reminds him through newly trembling lips.  “And a slave.”  Slaves are not trained in combat.  No one is so foolish enough to do that.

 

“It’s a pity,” Malgus thinks aloud.  “Because even without the Force, you would be good.  And if you are trained to do ledgers, you must also be intelligent.” 

 

“I’m an accountant . . . “  Just an accountant, nothing more.  Eleena is not part of the galactic war. 

 

The Sith shrugs and reconsiders.  “It’s just as well.  I do not allow females among my troops.  In my experience, women are a distraction to fighting men.”  And once again, his attention flits across her busom.  That makes Eleena take yet another step back.  And there comes that flash of white teeth once more as his face breaks into a smile.  Is he amused at her skittishness?  He waves an impatient gloved hand in her direction.  “Do not be afraid.  I mean you no harm.”  He looks as if he might say something further but then he pauses and his eyes narrow.  “They’re here . . . “ he half-whispers.

 

The Sith starts walking with determination towards the large window behind Eleena.  Her eyes follow his path to gaze into the inky black oblivion of space.

 

“Who’s here?” she wonders aloud.

 

A split second later she has her answer.  Two Republic capital ships drop out of hyperspace and open fire.


	3. Chapter 3

When Malgus marches in on the medic helping the slave woman, he perceives two things straightaway.  First, the woman is feeling utterly confused.  Second, even covered in bacta patches, she is drop dead gorgeous with an overripe figure that can only be described as lush.  Malgus isn’t a man who indulges in women anymore.  He likes to think that he moved beyond that particular distraction years ago.  These days, he focuses on war and power, like a Sith should.  But even he has to struggle to keep his eyes from wandering.  This random woman is certainly an eyeful, whoever she is.  Just look at those breasts.  They are a handful and more.

 

His initial perception of her had been hazy.  The Sith had been focused more on the imminent threat than on the serving woman.  But once the plot was uncovered and the hostiles were taken out, his gaze had flitted over to the Twi’lek laying on the floor.  She had fallen face down and he had seen the electronic slave collar implant on the nape of her neck.  It marks her for a slave, literally the lowest of the low.  This is a woman far, far beneath him, but Darth Malgus had felt a strange kinship to her all the same.  For in the eyes of some Sith elites, he is equally as worthy of disdain. 

 

It is a struggle he has faced all his career.  For despite his impressive credentials at the Academy, his respectable pureblood Sith Master, and his considerable achievements in the Force and at war, Darth Malgus himself is looked down upon by many of his peers.  He is an outsider in the insular world of the Sith with its complicated blood kinship circles and slavish devotion to Master and Apprentice pedigrees going back generations in the Force.  He is a self-made man in a society of mostly inherited gravitas, and that has earned him the dubious sobriquet, Darth Malgus the New.  Like this fallen slave woman, he will never be part of the establishment.  The reasons may be different, but the ultimate consequence is largely the same.  Every accomplishment he makes is hard fought and its recognition is begrudging at best. 

 

That’s why the plight of this Twi’lek woman had engendered uncharacteristic pity in him.  Malgus had been oddly touched by her impulsive desire to help him too.  And so, he had hefted her up and over his shoulder before he left.  Until he had walked in just now to find her awake, he had no real impression of her other than that she was tall, full bodied, and blue.  Mostly he remembers her jiggling backside that had covered his wide shoulder armor and then some.  She is no lightweight, so he carried her with the Force.

 

Yes . . . this slave woman is beautiful, he sees.  With high cheekbones and full lips, with wide set brows and an elegant long neck.  Her coveralls are open to the waist and she has bacta patches stuck all over all her smooth exposed skin.  Her top half matches the jiggly bottom half he sees, very intentionally keeping his countenance blank.   Over the years, Malgus has developed a very good poker face.  It is a necessary skill for a conniving Sith. 

 

He wonders how this woman became a clerk and not dancer.  Twi’lek dancing girls are something of a collector’s item among more than just the Hutts.   Sure, she’s on the larger side, but Twi’leks are famous for their curves.  And all of that plump blue flesh is just more to love.  Plus, this woman has plenty of athletic grace from what he has seen.   Once Malgus said his name, she had hurdled the couch and jumped clear across the room.  Any woman who can move that fast could definitely dance.

 

Malgus is about to take his leave when he gets a momentary premonition of danger.  It is a tickle of anticipation in the Force.  That’s when the Sith walks right past the wary slave woman to watch the enemy arrive out of hyperspace to open fire. 

 

It’s a classic ambush, and a very thorough one at that.

 

“They must have tracked my shuttle,” he mutters grimly as the general alert begins to sound.  Malgus turns to the medic still standing erect at attention and orders, “Dismissed!  Get to your battle position now!”  In the next second, his cruiser shudders and rocks, temporarily throwing him off balance and landing the stumbling Twi’lek woman in his arms.  He rights her and instantly turns back to the window.  It shows squad after squad of short range fighters pouring out from the two Republic battleships to swarm his cruiser.

 

“This is not good,” he mutters.  An enemy hit has already gotten through his ship’s heavy shielding.   And with two dozen fighters incoming, there’s more damage to come.   They are outgunned and soon to be outmaneuvered.   This will all be over if they don’t jump out of here quick.

 

Malgus starts striding from the room, intent on reaching the bridge, when the Twi’lek woman calls after him, “What do I do?”

 

He keeps walking fast as he answers gruffly, “Follow me.”

 

The ship rocks again.  This time it’s harder and to the port side.  That means the shields are either down on both sides or failing fast.  The Sith now breaks into a run and the slave woman attempts to keep pace.  The corridors heading towards the bridge are crowded but everyone shrinks from their path.  The ship keeps shuddering and now Malgus hears the telltale whine close by of the cruiser’s hull being cut.  If they haven’t already been boarded, it’s only a matter of time.  Yes, they have been boarded.  Malgus can hear blaster fire nearby.  And as he and the slave woman round the next corner, they run smack into the enemy face to face. 

 

The Republic troopers open fire.

 

A wave of his hand freezes a dozen blaster bolts immediately.  Then his saber leaps to his grip to ignite.  A second wave of his hand reverses the frozen blaster bolts to take down the first row of enemy troopers.  And now the battle for the bridge begins. 

 

This is the danger a warrior Sith lives for, this is the combat rush of the Dark Side.  Malgus beckons to the Shadow Force and, thanks to decades of practice, it leaps to his command.  With a red blur, his sword flashes to deflect bolts and cut enemy troopers down.  The Republic men he faces are no match for a Sith Master’s skill and so far there is no Jedi in sight.  His true enemy, he suspects, is time.  And so, Darth Maglus the New gets to work.

 

“Leena!”  Is that her name?  He forgets the slave woman’s name.  Still, he hollers it again above the buzz of his sword and the din of incoming fire.

 

“Yes?” comes her shriek.

 

“Pick up a gun,” he orders.  He has been moving steadily forward and there are bodies and weapons strewn everywhere at his feet.  “Grab a gun, point it, and shoot.” 

 

“At what??”  The cowering woman is panicking.

 

So he answers as calmly as possible.  Keeping a cool head in battle is one of his hallmarks.  The Sith may channel emotion for power but Darth Malgus is a Sith best known for being cold.  He isn’t one to fly off the handle.  “Shoot at anything behind us.  You’re laying cover fire.  I’ll handle the rest.” 

 

“Like this?”  She pumps off a few rounds.  “O-Oh, this thing is h-heavy . . . and h-hot . . . “

 

“Yes, that’s fine.  Keep shooting.  Stay close with me.  We’re heading for the bridge.”  They have to get to the bridge.  The enemy has clearly figured out the cruiser’s layout and now half of the boarding troopers break down the hallway heading for the bridge.  The rest stand their ground to face him.  It’s a delay tactic, and it’s working.  Because if the troopers overwhelm the cruiser’s bridge, there will be no chance for escape to hyperspace. 

 

The Twi’lek woman does as she is told.  Of course, she does.  She’s a slave.  Malgus is just about done with the current wave of troopers when she starts shrieking again.  “T-There’s more!  There’s more from behind!”

 

Malgus throws his sword in a spin to take off the heads of the remaining two men in front of him, calling the saber quickly back to his hand.  “Get behind me!” he orders as he turns to face the new threat.  It’s at least another ten troopers running at them fast.  Malgus starts freezing blaster bolts with the Force when the Twi’lek woman shrieks again. 

 

“Oh, no!  Look!  Looook!”  They are in an exterior hallway and the panoramic window on the wall shows the space battle underway.  Malgus follows the woman’s pointing finger.  And, yes, she is right to be alarmed.  Spinning towards them is an out of control Republic fighter.  Its doomed pilot must be hoping to go out in a blaze of glory by taking out the enemy ship’s bridge.  With the shields down, it will most certainly get through.  

 

Thanks to assistance from the Force, Malgus has superhuman speed that saves them both.  In less time than it takes to blink an eye, he has grabbed the Twi’lek and dragged her around the corner through the startled enemy ranks frozen in the Force.  He hustles them both into one of the emergency escape pods.  Malgus slams down the hatch and punches the release.  It’s a full five seconds before the wildly spinning fighter makes impact.  By some miracle, the life pod jettisons at a different angle from the incoming ship.  But the energy blast from the collision of the fighter and the cruiser sends the pod careening wildly into open space.  Thankfully, they are heading away from the battle.   

 

Neither he nor the Twi’lek woman have time to strap in.  They bump wildly in the pod until its spin slows.  When the small escape craft finally rights itself, they pick themselves off the floor where they have fallen in a heap.  Unlike himself, the woman is not wearing armor and so she has sustained bruises and gashes everywhere.  Maybe it’s adrenaline, but she seems more frightened than injured. 

 

“Oh, Gods!” she yelps softly, turning frightened eyes to his.  “I thought for sure we were dead . . . “

 

He privately shares this sentiment, but he’s been a posturing Sith far too long to admit to anything less than complete command over the battle situation.  Malgus looks to the bloodied and trembling woman and decides to reassure her.  “This is good,” he speaks aloud his assessment as they float past some battle wreckage.  “At first glance, hopefully we will look debris.  Keep all those communications off and don’t fire the engine,” he gestures to the pod’s control panel.  “Just basic life support for now.  We do not want to draw attention.”

 

She nods blankly at him.  And, he forgot.  This woman is an accountant.  She probably can’t even pilot this craft. 

 

He turns back to the window.  Suddenly, they are watching the battle rather than in it.  And that’s not a comfortable feeling for a Sith.  He likes to control things.  He revels in war and prefers to lead his troops from the front.   Malgus now gives his struggling ship a very worried look.  “They need to jump out of here,” he growls his displeasure.  “We are hopelessly outgunned.” 

 

With the pod’s tumbling launch path, they have gained some distance from the battle now.  The Twi’lek woman squints over his shoulder at things.  “That’s funny. The damage doesn’t look as bad from out here . . . ” 

 

“It’s bad,” Malgus disagrees.  Outwardly, he is calm as always.  But inside, he is filled with dread.   “She is scuttled.  See the aft engines?” He points to where two of the five main engines on his cruiser have already gone dark.  “Once one more goes, the ship is a sitting duck.”

 

“All those people,” she exhales, looking fearfully to him.

 

“Yes,” he concurs grimly.  “I have a lot of loyal men on that ship.”

 

“Will any of them survive?” she asks.

 

He delivers the bad news with a resigned shake of his head.  “The Republic usually takes prisoners on land, but not in space.  Mostly likely, everyone will die unless they jump.  Look, there goes one escape pod,” he points.

 

“There’s another!” she spots hopefully.   But that optimism fades fast as they watch both life pods fall prey to enemy fire.  It could be completely accidental, a consequence of the heavy barrage of weaponry.  Or it could be intentional.  But from their vantage point, Malgus can’t tell.

 

The space battle continues unabated.  Now, it’s not just the larger crafts and the Republic fighters but also a few small Imperial fighters that have managed to launch.  But these new ships are far too few and it’s very clear that the Republic has the upper hand.  Malgus watches helplessly for the inevitable end.  He’s sufficiently objective of a tactician to acknowledge how well played this ambush has been.  The Republic is getting bolder and better like he has repeatedly warned the Sith command. 

 

One by one, the remaining aft engines of the disabled cruiser go dark.  Not two minutes later, the entire ship suddenly implodes. 

 

“Oh!” the Twi’lek woman wails and puts a hand to her mouth.  “Oh, no!”

 

Beside her, Malgus winces at the feel of so much simultaneous death in the Force.  He closes his eyes a moment, absorbing the collective pain and channeling it deep.   For every hurt, every pain makes him Darker, more powerful.   This loss will be no different, he vows.  The sacrifice of his ship will fuel his rage and make his retribution all the more potent in the end.

 

When the unsettling moment passes and Malgus regains his equilibrium, he intones, “May the Force be with them.  They died heroes for the glory of the Sith.”  And that is the way to die, he thinks.  Fighting for a cause that matters.  For if you are going to fail, you should fail seeking an honorable goal.  The Sith have a proud warrior tradition and there is no shame in being a casualty of war.  Better to fall to your enemy than to die a cowardly old man peacefully in bed.  The lost men aboard his cruiser are heroes all, Malgus judges, from his captain down to the lowest rank ensign.

 

He glances over.  The slave woman looks like she is about to cry.  She sniffs loudly for a few seconds, then regains her composure.  “I’m sorry,” she manages weakly.  “You must have had a lot of friends on that ship.” 

 

Friends?   Sith don’t have friends.  They have subordinates, rivals, and superiors.  But yes, there were many trusted and capable subordinates onboard his cruiser.  Malgus feels their loss personally as well as strategically.  In the larger scheme of things, the destruction of a single cruiser means little to the Imperial war effort.  But it means a great deal to Malgus himself.   His cruiser had been one of the few places he could relax and not constantly be looking over his shoulder, wary of his peers’ plots and spies.  His crew had been handpicked from the top down.  Uniformly they had been men loyal to their commander Darth Malgus and to the Empire.   Among the Sith, that sort of loyalty is a rare thing, hard to replace.  How does he explain this to the Republic slave woman who is fighting back tears?  Malgus takes refuge in a nod and repeats his earlier words.  “They died heroes for the glory of the Sith.”

 

Now, they both sit in silence waiting for what happens next.  Will the Republic find them?  Or are they satisfied that Darth Malgus went down with his ship?   The latter seems to be the answer, for the two Republic warships only linger to collect their own fighters before they jump away.  Now it’s just he and the slave woman in the escape pod floating through cold, dark space.

 

“Are you sure that this thing is safe?” the woman speaks up finally.  She seems to have regained her calm.  The rush of adrenaline from their narrow escape combined with the crush of their total defeat seem to have left her numb.  It’s a common reaction among his soldiers, Malgus knows from experience.  After the battle, people tend to become very subdued.

 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Malgus sighs as he moves to start activating the pod’s controls.  He needs to determine their coordinates and pass them on to a friendly ship so they can get picked up.  “There is a first aid kit above you,” he gestures upwards.  “You look like you need a few more bacta patches.”

 

Leena follows his direction and starts dabbing antiseptic at her many nicks and cuts.  They appear mostly superficial, but there are a lot of them.   “That’s twice you have saved me,” she says softly as she works.

 

“Yes, and twice that you have warned me of danger,” he responds.  “This is starting to become a habit for us.”  

 

“That was the Force, wasn’t it?”  She is speaking in a dull, quiet tone.  “What you did with your sword and how you pushed people away and froze those blaster bolts.” 

 

Malgus suddenly realizes that she is a layman who has never seen a Sith warrior before.  This is all very new to her.  This woman has never had cause to witness the awesome power of the Dark Force.

 

“It sounds like how they describe the Force in the newsfeeds,” she continues rambling.  “Like magic, sort of . . .”  She turns a questioning look on him.  “Is the Force what makes your eyes turn yellow?  They weren’t yellow earlier,” she observes. “They were brown.”

 

“Yes,” Malgus confirms gravely.   “That was the Force.”

 

“I thought so.  I’ve never seen that before.  It was amazing . . . I thought for sure we were dead . . . ”  Her voice trails off as she makes a face. 

 

“The Force is a powerful ally,” he informs her sagely.  “Our religion teaches that all things are possible in the Force.”

 

She nods but looks dubious.  “It scares me.”  Then she repeats, “I’ve never seen that before.”

 

He’s sort of proud that she is so impressed.  “Do not be alarmed.  There is nothing to be afraid of,” Malgus tells her.  Truly, this woman is looking more and more spooked. 

 

But his words do not reassure.  “How can you say that??” Leena stammers out.  Then she starts lashing back at him.  “This morning my own master shot me and then you killed him!  And just now we were under attack but we escaped and now we are floating in open space in an escape pod.  There is danger everywhere!  How will anyone even know to find us?” she moans, looking again like she is close to tears.  “I’m going to die here,” she confesses her worst fear.  “And no one will know and no one will care.”

 

He’s on top of things.  She just doesn’t know it.  “I have already contacted help.”

 

“Yeah?” she demands.  “When?  How?”

 

“There are those I trust.  They know where we are.  I just sent our position.  Someone should be along in a few hours to pick us up.”

 

“Are you sure?” she challenges.  Fear has swept away all of this slave woman’s posturing of subservience, he sees.  She’s very direct now.  “Are you sure?” she asks again.  “Because so far it seems like everyone wants to kill you.”

 

Yes, this woman is beginning to catch on.  And he’s starting to like her honest spunk.  If this woman has any artifice, he hasn’t discovered it yet.  Malgus shrugs.  “I have many enemies.  To be Sith is to be marked for death.” 

 

She looks away with a furrowed brow.  “I saw a man get crushed by a forklift in the warehouse once.   It was an accident and he died instantly . . ."

 

“This is a war.  People die.   A Sith leads a violent life.”

 

“ . . . I didn’t see him afterwards.  I looked away.   Then I ran away.  I was too afraid to look . . . “

 

“War is not for everyone.” 

 

She rubs at her bruised forehead and mutters, “I don’t think it’s for me.” 

 

He nods at this.  War is not for little people, he knows.  They endure the death and destruction and reap none of the glory.  “Once we are picked up, I will find you a place to start a new life.  Ryloth is under Republic control now or I would send you there to live with your own kind.”  Even with this total defeat, Malgus is feeling magnanimous towards this slave woman.  Twice she has alerted him to danger and he feels responsible for her now.  Loyalty works both ways, he knows.

 

“I’ve never even been to Ryloth,” she confesses.  “It’s not my home.  I have no family.  I am a slave without a master.  I am completely on my own.”

 

He understands that predicament.  “Leena,” he catches her gaze for a long moment. “So am I.  I am also all alone.”  And why did he say that?  He’s not sure.  But he quickly changes the topic to save face.  “How is it that you were trained as an accountant?   That’s an unusual trade for a slave, let alone a female Twi’lek.“

 

“Keeping books is much better than being chained to a Hutt,” she points out and it’s hard to disagree.  Then she tells him what he already knows.  “Women of my species are valued mostly for their looks.   We are sold for decorative purposes.  To be serving girls and dancers and er . . . companions.” 

 

She uses a delicate phrase for sex slave, he notices.   And it makes him wonder if she has that experience in her past.   This woman is youngish but not in the first blush of youth.  Did she spend her early adult days as a concubine?   Was she sold for real work once some man tired of her?  Malgus has to know.  So he prompts, “But not you?   You were sold for your mind?” 

 

She shakes her head and looks away.  “They didn't even try to sell me for the usual jobs.   I was too tall, too fat, too blue, too . . . something for the customers. I didn’t meet their conventional standards of beauty.”  She flashes an ugly, rueful smile.  “Let’s face it, I would never sell for sex.”   

 

Malgus can’t tell if she is relieved or upset about that.  And silently he disagrees with this judgement but he says nothing. 

 

“I scored high on intelligence,” she explains some more.  She’s sort of nervously rambling now.  “That’s not how we are typically priced so I ended up a bargain for the Muun who bought me. I was sixteen when I was sold away from my mother.”  She looks away again.  “After that day, I never saw her again . . . “ 

 

“How old are you now?” he wants to know.

 

“Thirty-six.”  She flashes a troubled-looking half-smile.  “That’s past my prime as a dancing girl but just hitting my stride as an accountant.”

 

“Thirty-six.”  He would have guessed a few years younger. Maybe because there is such a softness to her face still.  All the Sith ladies Malgus knows cultivate a sleek, aggressive beauty with harsh makeup and dramatic flair.   Sith women posture just as much as the men, maybe more.  With come hither looks that alternate hot and cold and a combustible conversation style that has as much anger as allure.  Danger is their default turn-on, and so Sith ladies are as likely to cut you down as they are to kiss you.   It grows tiresome after a while, Malgus thinks.  He gets enough manufactured drama with his peers as is.

 

Malgus keeps up his half-hearted conversation with the slave woman on and off.  He ends up helping to apply a few of her bacta patches too.  But that’s mostly an excuse to touch her skin.  In order to apply the patches to her back, she has to unzip and pull down her coveralls once again.  Malgus feels a bit like a randy teenager stealing glances at her breasts, but it’s been a long time since he has kept a woman or thought much about sex.  Not since he was a far younger man.  Truthfully, he has evolved past these sorts of needs.  Like every other passion, he channels his sex drive into power and vents it with violence and war.   It’s both a pragmatic and a prudent solution.  For you cannot steal a kiss from a highborn Sith lady without risking your life to her vengeful and controlling family.  But ogling this pretty Twi’lek slave woman has no such risk.  And it helps to pass the time. 

 

She too is curious, it seems.  “If you are Sith, how come you aren’t red?” she asks him.  It’s her turn to ask the personal questions apparently.

 

“Pureblood Sith are humanoid, rather than human.  The purebloods are the ones with the red skin,” he explains.

 

“And you’re not one of them,” she concludes.

 

“No.  I’m not from one of the old fully human Sith families either.  The Force runs strongly in those families, but it randomly occurs in others too.  I am one of those randoms.  I was identified as having the Force and trained as a Sith warrior at the Academy.  We are a warlike people and warriors are our ruling class,” he explains.  “It’s the same hundred or so families generation after generation usually.  I am exception to that general rule.”  It makes him something of an outcast, too. 

 

“So Darth Malgus is an accidental Sith Lord?” she summarizes with undisguised surprise.  She smiles at the thought.

 

He nods.  “Yes.”  That’s not how he would phrase it, but it’s true from a certain point of view.  “We Sith revere power.  Power in the Force you can learn.  Power in war you can earn.  But power in politics you must be born to or marry.  Kinship is everything in our world.”  He warms to her theme.  “There have been self-made men among the Sith before, but none so prominent as me.  And none so ambitious,” he freely admits.  It used to grate on him that his renown among his enemies eclipses his respect among his peers.  But he has grown to accept that and move on.  He channels his resentment into power and has the last laugh.  Darth Malgus long ago learned to use others’ scorn to his advantage.  

 

As more time passes, the slave woman is growing increasingly stressed about their situation, he sees.  Every few minutes, she asks again if he’s sure they will be found.  Glancing over at her exhausted, strung-out expression and her battered appearance, Malgus sighs and waves his hand.  He steals her consciousness to put her into light Force sleep.  That should help things a bit.  The last thing he wants is to be stuck in close quarters with a hysterical woman.  Leena slumps against his shoulder in slumber and he settles into meditation.  He could use some calm himself.  The fallout from today will be massive, and it’s got him far more anxious than he has let on.

 

Malgus seethes now as he imagines how his enemies will gloat. 

 

This is not the first time he has been defeated.  But he does not lose very often.  And this particular defeat stings deeply.  Today is far worse than the counterattack on Alderaan or the initial offensive on Ord Radama.  Those were temporary setbacks compared to the loss of his ship and his men.  Today’s ambush will bring far more than just bitter frustration and embarrassing humiliation.   If he’s not careful, it may well derail his entire career.  Malgus refuses to let that happen.  But still . . . he is dismayed by this development.  For some time now, he has known he’s not the Sith he should be.  He wants more.  But after today, suddenly he has a lot less. 

 

Malgus focuses now on the Shadow Force, immersing himself in its promise of retribution and vindication.  He hopes in vain for a glimpse of the future.  But the Light Side clouds everything.   The future—especially his future—is impossible to see.   Everything is suddenly in flux.  After two hours of fruitless concentration, Malgus’ mind retreats from Darkness.  He gives up.

 

When he becomes fully aware of his immediate surroundings, the Sith sees that Leena has slumped further still.  She now lays with her head practically in his lap, her right profile presented to him and her lekku streaming down.  Gazing at her, Malgus can’t help but think that he should not be doing this.  It feels like he is taking liberties.  Or maybe she is the one taking liberties.  But either way, he hasn’t been this close to a woman in years.

 

This slave woman truly is beautiful, Malgus thinks, as he peers at her face relaxed in slumber.   How anyone fails to see that is a mystery to him, but he’s glad all the same.  It has saved her from a life of exploitation.   Leena might still be a slave, but she is an educated and somewhat valued one.  And now, through a strange turn of events, he has set her free.  Today, his loss is her gain, it seems.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Malgus rouses Leena as the _Oppressor_ arrives to pick them up.  “We are rescued,” he tells her the good news as she blinks awake and sits up.  She looks horrified to find that she has been sleeping in his lap.

 

“I . . . uh . . . I . . .” she stammers awkwardly before lowering her eyes and biting her lip.  She looks as if she fears a reprisal for this familiarity.  And recalling Barrabas’ reaction to her slight stumble, Malgus thinks perhaps her fearful subservient demeanor was frequently merited.

 

“It is nothing,” Malgus waves away her embarrassment with some noblesse oblige.  “You needed to rest.  We will get you a medic when we arrive.”

 

“Is that a Sith ship?” she asks hopefully, looking out the pod’s circular window.

 

“Yes.  You will be safe there.”

 

The slave woman visibly relaxes, but Malgus does not.  He girds himself for the uncomfortable arrival that is to come.  It takes less than a minute for the _Oppressor_ ’s tractor beam to drag them in.  It deposits the escape pod in the middle of the dreadnought’s very crowded hangar bay.  Malgus grimaces as he realizes that this placement will maximize the public nature of their rescue. 

 

But it gets worse.  As he opens the hatch, he sees two familiar Sith striding forward.   These men are not here to welcome him, he knows.  They are here to gloat about his defeat.  Darth Malgus doesn’t often lose in combat, and never before so spectacularly, so this embarrassment is a rare opportunity for them.

 

Ignoring their approach, Malgus turns back to hand the stiff and sore Leena out of the pod.  This is perhaps too gallant an assist for a slave woman, but she is injured and he mostly wants to get out of this situation as soon as possible.  Helping Leena will move things along.  But his action does not go unnoticed. 

 

“Well, well, well, Malgus has found himself some company.  Non-human, naturally.”  

 

This voice is Darth Adraas, a man whose skills lie more in manipulation than in combat, although Adraas is very good at covering this fact.  He is also very good at taking credit for others’ accomplishments, as Malgus knows firsthand.  For years now, there has been no love lost between him and Darth Adraas.  It is a bitter personal and professional animosity that goes decades back.  Once, Malgus had hoped this man to be his ally, but that chance has long since passed.  They hate each other now with good reason, and neither bothers to hide it.

 

“It’s a pity you didn’t go down with your ship,” Adraas observes with a sneer.  “But Angral insisted we pick you up.”

 

Another voice joins the fray now.  It is fresh faced redheaded Darth Nefarid, barely a Sith Lord and still an Apprentice.  But today he is posturing like a man.  “Malgus, is this what you meant when you told the Council that we should cultivate strategic relations with alien species?”  Feeling pleased with himself, smug young Nefarid laughs at his own joke.

 

Beside him, Leena’s blue skin is blushing bright pink at their words.  She looks down in an automatic posture of deference.  It makes Malgus annoyed on her behalf.

 

“Adraas.  Nefarid.”  He acknowledges his fellow Sith coolly.  This is his standard demeanor for dealing with his peers.  Darth Malgus the New is known as a Sith of few words, most of them biting.   He has cultivated a reputation as a harsh, cold man.  

 

He eyes the two other men without enthusiasm.  “Your presence here confirms how superfluous you both are to the war effort.”  Meaning:  don’t men of your rank have better things to do? 

 

“Oh, but the show is all here.”  Adraas is undeterred.  His rival is enjoying this little scene.  Adraas is not wearing his ornate battle mask so Malgus can see his full toothy grin.  “Malgus, you lost your cruiser but you saved some Twi’lek woman.  Although, all in all,” Adraas appraises Leena slowly, “if it were me, I would have kept the ship.”

 

And now Lord Nefarid chimes in following the older man’s lead like some obnoxious little brother sidekick.  “How exactly did you lose an entire cruiser?”

 

Malgus doesn’t respond.  He doesn’t answer to these men.  And he finds their petty one-upmanship tedious.  All this energy wasted on competitive infighting would be better spent on the enemy, he thinks.  So, as usual, Malgus refuses to be baited.  He long ago learned to pick his battles with his peers.  And, yes, he picks a lot of battles.  But not today.  Today he needs to regroup and lick his wounds.  He  wants to bypass these two fools, deposit Leena somewhere safe, and speak to Darth Angral who commands the _Oppressor_ and the rest of the Sith navy.

 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Adraas jeers.

 

“No,” is Malgus’ curt response.  “Come,” he beckons Leena forward.  Seeing the expression on Adraas’ face, he decides to protectively grab for her hand.  They are barely two steps away when Malgus hears a sword ignite behind him. 

 

“Going to pout, Malgus?”  It’s Adraas still looking for a fight.  Malgus calmly turns and begins to choke him with the Force.  Good and hard. 

 

Lord Nefarid just looks on with wide eyes watching this contest of wills.

 

Thirty seconds in, Adraas backs down and extinguishes his sword.   With an exasperated look, Malgus releases him.   “I don’t duel with Sith.  I duel with Jedi,” he announces loudly for the benefit of the small crowd that has gathered to watch.  “We should fight the enemy and not ourselves.”  Adraas knows this to be his view, Malgus suspects, or he would never have pulled his sword.  The man is all posturing and political maneuvering.  Adraas knows not to risk an all-out fight with him.  Instead, he prefers more petty, indirect means of conflict.

 

While Adraas falls gasping to his knees, young Nefarid finds the reckless courage to jeer, “A real Sith would have drawn his sword, but not Malgus the New.  He wants us all to get along.  Like we’re fucking Jedi or something.” 

 

“The Republic is a cunning enemy worthy of respect,” Malgus answers calmly.  He gives the brash youngster a pointed look.  “The Sith could learn from the Republic’s better qualities.  Such as unity of purpose.”

 

Adraas curses him in Kittat between heaves.   Then he looks Leena over again with contempt and repeats the goad that Malgus hears a lot:  “You’re soft.”

 

Malgus has heard these insults before.  How he is less than a full Sith.  How his ideas make him weak.  Like the rest of his rivals, these men cannot compete with him in battle or in the Force, but they will always win in prestige and pedigree.  And they know it.  It’s why they throw shade at every opportunity they get.  And the more achievements he makes, the more petty jealousy and resentment he earns, Malgus knows.  It’s why he takes pains to always appear ruthless to his Sith foes.

 

Still, ‘soft’ stings deep and gets through his thick skin.  Malgus may have declined to fight with swords, but he will fight with words.  He looks each man squarely in the eye.  “I am not soft.  I am not ruled by sentiment.  I killed my Master when he failed at Korriban.  If either of you fails us, I will do the same to you,” he warns.  “But until then, we share a common enemy and I will save my fighting for them.”  Once again, he starts walking away with Leena firmly in tow.

 

“The only one who failed today was you!”  It’s Adraas again, barking out his usual spite.  “Are you going to tell Angral ‘I told you so’ about the Republic to cover up your failure to defend your ship?  Lord Angral might listen to your speeches on unity, but the Council does not.”

 

Malgus whirls to retort, “Then the Sith will go the way of Mandalore and countless other warrior civilizations if we are consumed by our own hubris and violence!  We will weaken, our enemies will exploit our divisions, and we will become vulnerable to conquest.  The Republic is more dangerous than you think!”    

 

“We waited three hundred years and now our time has come,” Adraas counters in ringing tones.  He’s back on his feet now as he grandstands.  “The Jedi and the Republic will fall!  And we won’t need your radical ideas to win.”

 

Malgus has said all he intends to say.  He starts striding away dragging Leena along. 

 

“Keep your eye on your slave girl,” Lord Adraas calls a veiled threat after them.   “This is a big ship and she might get lost.”

 

This time when Malgus stops, he turns slowly.  He’s not about to let his rival have the last word.  Plus, he always responds to a threat with a threat of his own.   Coating his words with heavy emphasis in the Force, he warns in a low voice, “This woman is under my protection.  You should remember that well.  I will kill anyone who harms or takes what is mine.” 

 

This warning has nothing to do with the slave woman Leena and Darth Adraas knows it.  Darth Nefarid no doubt understands the subtext, too.  The feud between him and Lord Adraas is old gossip that refuses to die.  With that parting speech and a cold glare, Malgus turns on heel and continues marching away.

 

He quickly deposits Leena in an empty set of military quarters with a medic droid to evaluate her injuries.  Then he departs to report to the ship’s commander.  Before he leaves, Malgus locks the door with the Force for Leena’s protection.  Only one man onboard is strong enough to undo the spell, he tells his newfound Twi’lek ward, but Darth Angral is not the sort to bother you.  The slave woman nods her understanding.  Then Malgus heads for the bridge to present himself for a very uncomfortable debriefing.

 

Angral is waiting for him, of course.  The senior Sith is a tall, slim patrician with wispy grey hair and a heavily lined face.  Unlike most of their peers, Angral favors red armor instead of black.  It is a very distinctive look.  As Malgus approaches, Angral looks him over with that cybernetic left eye of his that is a souvenir from a long-ago duel with a Jedi Master. 

 

“Lord Malgus,” his host and superior nods gravely.  

 

“Lord Angral,” Malgus nods back. 

 

This is what counts for an exchange of pleasantries among the Sith.  For even when two Sith who like each other meet up, neither lets on. 

 

Angral is the commander of this Sith dreadnought and a man highly placed within the Imperial hierarchy both by birth and by merit.  He is a favorite of the Emperor and that seems to excuse his occasional excesses of pride and bloodlust.  But despite these tendencies, Malgus knows Lord Angral to be a man of reasoning and strategy.  There is much about the man to admire.

 

Malgus is not the only person to think so.  Some Sith scheme for years to get their sons added to Lord Angral’s list of apprentices.   Malgus himself is an unofficial member of that list, for Darth Angral has been something of an arm’s length mentor to him for years.   This has been done at the Emperor’s behest, Angral once confided.   Of course, the Emperor will not take direct notice of his career, Malgus knows.  But that doesn’t mean Vitiate hasn’t noticed.   At his age, Malgus no longer requires a teacher.  He is far too advanced in his career to take instruction.  But he does appreciate the guidance and goodwill of a man like Angral.   

 

After both men have eyed one another a long moment, the Sith commander beckons Malgus forward to join him at the helm.  “What brings you to my ship?” Angral asks quietly.  He knows what happened, of course.  But Angral wants to give Malgus a chance to explain it in his own words.  It’s a courtesy that Malgus appreciates.  Plus, Angral is an old campaigner who has seen his own share of setbacks.  This is not a man to rub Malgus’ defeat in his face. It’s one of many reasons why the _Oppressor_ was the logical choice to call for a rescue today.

 

As usual, Malgus gets right to the point.  “Our supply lanes are compromised. One of our civilian contractors has sold us out.” 

 

“Which one?”

 

“Barrabas Logistics.   They handle about half of our business in the Mid Rim.  Barrabas is dead.  I killed him myself.  But who knows how much damage his treachery has done.” 

 

Angral digests this news.  “This Barrabas fellow is how you came to lose the cruiser with two thousand men?” 

 

“Yes.  His trap led the Republic right to us.  It was a very effective ambush.”

 

“That is unfortunate.  Most unfortunate.”  Angral shakes his head.  “Malgus, the Council will have to be told.”

 

Yes, he knows.

 

“And, assuming you are granted a replacement command, you will have your work cut out for you rebuilding a crew.”

 

Yes, he knows this too.   Those were good, loyal men who died on his ship.  His officer corps were handpicked and verified to be loyal for Malgus doesn’t put it past his Sith brethren to undermine his command and place spies aboard.  For all he knows, his own so-called brothers-in-arms had some role in the plot with Barrabas.  Stealth and betrayal are the way of the Sith, but they are a weakness too. 

 

“You are unharmed?”  Angral looks him over again and Malgus nods.  “Good.  Your companion apparently was not.”

 

News travels fast, he sees.  And, frankly, he isn’t surprised.  Malgus knows that he is a man continuously watched and much whispered about.  “The woman is a Barrabas employee.”  Malgas automatically ups Leena’s status from slave.  "She intervened to prevent the plot.”  And, actually, Leena pretty much was the plot, but he omits that part.

 

“She may be of use to us then,” Angral decides.  “We will interrogate her for information.”

 

“She has none,” Malgus is quick to counter.  “She stumbled on the plot purely by accident.” 

 

“Then why is she here?” the Sith commander asks.

 

“She was in the right place at the right time.”   Malgus can’t admit to showing mercy to a Republic slave or he will lose face.  Plus, Lord Angral, like most Sith lords, considers alien species to be contemptuous.  Showing mercy to an alien compounds the sin of sentiment.  So, Malgus quickly changes the topic. “I have already given orders to stop all supply shipments with Barrabas.  We should probably evaluate the loyalty of the rest of our supply chain now too.” 

 

“First things first, Malgus,” the elder Sith corrects.  “We owe the Republic some retribution, do we not?”  Angral flashes a sly grin and his good green eye flickers yellow.  Then the two Sith fall into conversation about how best to launch a strike on the Barrabas facilities and whether they can lure some Republic forces there for destruction as well.  The goal is to make an example out of Barrabas Logistics for other businesses that might be tempted to collude with the Republic.  And, of course, to retaliate for the loss of his cruiser. 

 

After a few minutes, the conversation segues, as it always does, into a critique of the larger war.  “The Council is displeased with the war effort,” Angral reveals what Malgus has long suspected.  “There is a perception among many that we have stalled.” 

 

Malgus agrees with this assessment.  “We should be more bold, more offensive.  Fighting skirmishes in open space gets us nowhere.  We need to take the war to the Core.”

 

“To Coruscant?”  The senior Sith raises both eyebrows at him.

 

Malgus nods.  “That is the objective, is it not?  The Republic must fear us.  Their Core peoples must feel our threat and not just their armies in the Rim.  We should plot a strategy that fosters divisions among their leadership.  We must create inequities among their premiere worlds.   Their system functions on transparency, consensus, and compromise.  Our tactics must subvert that—“   Malgus stops himself, realizing that he is doing his usual emphatic rambling.  Like he is some Senator of the Republic giving a stump speech and not a warrior Sith.  Historically, his kind are men of action, not of words. 

 

But Angral is listening and nodding along.  “Let them fail from within as we attack from without? Is that your strategy?” 

 

“Yes.  Use their precious freedoms and their open societies against them.  Not only will it win the war, but it will show the fallacy of their governing systems.  Our victory will be complete.”

 

“That is a sound approach, worthy of consideration,” Angral allows, “if it could be implemented.  What you are suggesting is a tricky thing.  It would take much more than pure firepower.”  The Sith commander muses a moment further.   “Still . . . it might be well received given the concerns that the war has stalled.”

 

Malgus immediately latches on.  “Will you support such a strategy before the Council?”

 

Angral considers a moment.  “If you convince me, yes.  Present me with a comprehensive plan and we will discuss it.   If we can agree on a plan, then I will help you put it forward.”  Darth Angral gives him a knowing look.  “You will need my support and others’ if you are to get another audience with the Council.”

 

“If only the Council were as reasonable as you are, my lord,” Malgus gripes.

 

The older man shakes his head.  “You are an exemplary tactician, Lord Malgus, but I’m afraid your reputation precedes you into these matters.”

 

That’s nothing new.  Malgus shrugs.  “That’s why I need your support.   You are respected.”

 

“Whereas you are feared,” Angral counters pointedly.  “You are feared as much for your ideas as for your power.  The meritocracy you represent threatens our status quo in ways that you as an outsider do not fully appreciate.”  Aristocratic Angral gives him some side eye now.  “And it is somewhat Jedi in approach, is it not?”

 

That is the ultimate disdain among the Sith—to call something Jedi.  And, frankly, Malgus finds this kneejerk reaction to be shortsighted.  He says so.  “We should learn from the strengths of our adversaries.  Maybe even adopt them for our own, where appropriate.”

 

Angral gives him an amused, indulgent look one might give a spirited child.  “There you go again, Malgus.  Speaking heresy,” he chuckles.   “As if the Empire would ever ape the Republic.”

 

“I want to win, my lord.  To give the Sith Empire more glory and more power.  And I am prepared to do what it takes,” Malgus boasts.  For when someone accuses you of being too Jedi, that’s your cue to double down on your Sith cred. 

 

“It will take you convincing the Dark Council.  And that is like herding banthas these days.   My lord Malgus,” Angral sounds very fatherly now, “peace is a lie as much for the Sith as it is for the Republic.  We bicker and bicker as the war drags on.”  

 

Malgus can’t help but agree.  “If we plotted against our enemies as often as we plot against ourselves, the Sith would already rule the galaxy,” he says glumly. 

 

Again, the older Sith gives him a patient, indulgent look.  “You are a warrior, not a leader.  Fight the battles and plot the strategy and leave the politics and the policy to others.”   This is not the first time Malgus has heard that sentiment.  It grates on him to be shunted aside as if he were merely a muscled brute.  He is far more than that.   But no one takes his ambitions seriously, even Darth Angral who is willing to listen and who knows him well.

 

His sometime mentor now switches topics.  “While I did not expect to see you, I am glad that you are here.  I have been tasked as an emissary to you.”

 

Malgus’ eyes narrow. “From the Council?”  Or maybe from the Emperor himself??

 

Angral shoots down those hopes.  “From Serevin.  His widowed daughter is in need of a new husband.  He bids me to inform you that he might be receptive to your suit given the appropriate terms.”  

 

Serevin?  Really?  The man is a diplomat, not a warrior, and so concerned with culture and manners as to be a bit effete.  Still, there is no denying Darth Serevin’s success on Voss.  And, the man is very well liked.  Malgus’ mind starts working fast as Angral keeps talking. 

 

“It would be an advantageous alliance on both sides.  They would gain some much-needed military glory, and Serevin would bolster your respectability considerably.  Marriage into that family might get you on the Dark Council one day.  Serevin is in favor with the Emperor of late.”

 

“I will consider it.”  Malgus keeps his cards close to his chest and his poker face firmly in place.  He doesn’t want Angral to know just how intriguing this overture is.  Suddenly, this day has some good news after all.

 

Angral responds by shooting him an impatient look.  “You should do more than consider the offer.  You should accept it.  That family has considerable influence.  You need that, especially in light of what happened today,” gentlemanly Angral is uncharacteristically blunt.  “Moreover, you will never advance to the heights you aspire to unless you are seen as part of the establishment you threaten.  And there’s only one way in for someone of your background:  marriage.”

 

“All for the right price, of course,” Malgus growls.

 

The elder Sith shrugs.  “That’s how these things are done.  Let us not pretend otherwise.  And you have credits to burn.”

 

“Other than Serevin himself, that family hasn’t produced an impressive Sith in ten generations,” Malgus complains.

 

“But they are pureblood and very strong with the Force,” his mentor reminds him.  “Perhaps your admission to the family will be the vigor that will turn the tide of their fortunes.”

 

“More like I will provide the credits to refill their coffers.”

 

The commander shoots him a frustrated look.  “Malgus, why is it that you are strategic in all things but your own dealings?   They are an old and respected family down on their luck.”

 

“There’s no such thing as luck—"

 

“And that makes them open to your suit.  Think about it.”  Lord Angral shoots him a sideways glance of reproach.  “Serevin is willing to overlook your past missteps.  His daughter is likely the best offer you are going to get.  I’ll admit that I was surprised at it.” 

 

“Who was the first husband?”

 

Angral names a mediocre young warrior Sith who fell in battle last year.

 

“Any children?”

 

“Twin sons.  You will foster the boys when the time comes, naturally.  But the lady is not anxious for more children.  Serevin supports her in that.”   This is said in Angral’s usual understated manner, but the message is clear.   

 

“So Serevin will form a marriage alliance but not mix his pure blood with mine?” Malgus is offended.  

 

Darth Angral phrases it differently.  “He sees your rise and wants to participate.  He could be a key supporter.” 

 

“But he will not dilute his bloodline,” Malgus gripes. 

 

“The lady is said to be very beautiful.  That sweetens the deal.”

 

“Who cares?  Women all look the same in the dark.”  Malgus hasn’t been much for women for years now.  And besides, he has a beautiful slave girl locked in his quarters currently if he decides he needs one.  And Leena won’t cost him a million credits in a marriage settlement.

 

“Who cares?” Angral scoffs.  Then he leans in man-to-man.  “Malgus, you need to start romancing in the light.”

 

He smirks.  “Now who’s the Jedi?”

 

“The Jedi don’t romance,” Angral retorts.  But he chuckles, too.  Then he turns to regard Malgus with something akin to true regard.  “I’m glad you survived that ambush.  The Empire needs you more than ever now.  Will you lead the reprisal against the Republic for the traitor shipping magnate?  It seems fitting.”

 

Malgus leaps at the offer of command.  “It would be my pleasure.  I have a cruiser full of troops to avenge.”  

 

“Good.  Adraas and Nefarid are here and neither is an ideal choice.”

 

“Yes, I met them in the hangar bay,” Malgus scowls.  “Nefarid is young,” he objectively assesses Angral’s annoying apprentice.  “He still has more Force than judgement.”   Malgus thinks a moment.  “Adraas has neither Force nor judgement.  That one is all politics,” he sneers.

 

Lord Angral, like the rest of elite Sith society, knows of the longstanding feud between himself and Adraas.  But if Angral disagrees with his summation of his rival, he does not let on.  Instead, the Sith commander draws a different conclusion.  “Adraas is from an old, well connected house.  I tolerate him.”  He gives Malgus a sharp look.  “So will you.  The man has his uses.  If you look past your personal feelings, you will see his talents.”

 

Malgus makes a face.  “Perhaps Lord Adraas should lead the ground assault on the front line.” 

 

The Sith commander shrugs.  “The attack is yours to plan.  But plan it well and win,” Angral warns him.  “You are in need of some glory now.”  And Malgus understands the point:  he needs a decisive strike to redeem himself in the eyes of the Dark Council.  And that means he himself should be the one to lead the ground assault.  No doubt with Adraas safely in the rear.

 

“Think about Serevin’s offer,” Angral reverts to their earlier discussion.  “Do not wait too long or the daughter will marry elsewhere.  She will be much sought after.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“You are dismissed, my lord, to plot revenge on Barrabas.”


	5. Chapter 5

When the medic droid finishes attending to her injuries, Eleena is pronounced fine.  She has bruises and small gashes everywhere, but those should heal in a day with the bacta patches.   The soreness will ease too.  All in all, she has survived an assassination plot and an ambush on a warship relatively unscathed.  And that is a strange feeling, since Eleena has witnessed so much death today.   As she sits quietly in the aftermath processing it all, Eleena is not sure what will happen next.

 

She had awoken in the escape pod with her head in the Sith’s lap, looking up into his eyes that were dark brown again instead of feral yellow.  From that angle for the first time Eleena saw the faint splatter pattern of small pockmark scars that start under his chin and go up his left cheek.  The marks don’t mar his face, they just make it more interesting, she had decided.  And did Lord Malgus brush her cheek with his hand?  Or maybe stroke her lekku?  Eleena thinks maybe, but she can’t be sure in retrospect.  She does remember that the Dark lord had smiled down at her and whispered that they were saved.  In the moment, Eleena had thought that she was dreaming, that this was some fantasy come to life.   For something about that fleeting moment had felt imagined.  Like it was stolen while reality was held at bay.

 

Then five minutes later surrounded by a growing crowd, the Sith was trading insults and threats with two more of his kind until someone drew a sword and started choking.  It had been an ugly, frightening encounter.   Afterwards, Lord Malgus had locked her in a room with a medic droid and disappeared.  Leaving Eleena to stew over all that has occurred. 

 

Who is this Darth Malgus?   What has she gotten herself into?  Eleena isn’t sure.

 

This is not the first time she has experienced an abrupt change in her life.  At sixteen, she had been sold to the Muun banker and never saw her mother again.  Then, many years later, she had been sold again to Barrabas.  That is the nature of life as a slave.  There is no self-determination and no control.  Things happen, and you adapt and move on.  And so, Eleena will manage through this too.  If she survives, that is.

 

For ever since Eleena laid eyes on the Sith Darth Malgus, her life has been filled with danger at every turn.  From her treacherous master who unexpectedly stunned her, to the firefight and space battle with the Republic, to the near duel between Sith warriors who are supposed to be on the same side.   Lord Malgus is blasé, even sanguine, about it.  To be Sith, he brags, is to be marked for death.   

 

She looks around now at the blank-looking military quarters she is locked in.  If this is freedom, Eleena thinks, it sure doesn’t feel free.  But she won’t complain.  Given that bitter exchange in the hangar bay, her current situation is probably for the best.   As dangerous as Darth Malgus is, he has consistently treated her well.  Eleena trusts his judgement.  And, well, it’s not like she has another choice.  

 

Suddenly the door opens and the Sith himself steps in accompanied by a tidy looking middle-aged human man.  Eleena stands stiffly to her feet.  Lord Malgus looks her over for a long moment, seeing the work the medic droid has done.  “You are looking improved,” he decides, sounding pleased.

 

She nods but says nothing.  Out of habit, she ducks her chin and lowers her eyes.

 

Malgus turns to the man at his side.  “Jose, this is—”

 

“Eleena,” she announces herself, speaking up to emphasize the ‘E’ at the beginning that Lord Malgus always leaves off.  “Eleena Daru.”

 

“Leena is the woman I told you about,” Malgus informs his companion.  “She is the only survivor other than myself.”

 

“Yes, Master,” the man responds.  “I will see to her, Master.”

 

“Good.”  The Sith gestures to her torn and bloody jumpsuit and starts issuing orders.   “I do not wish to see the name Barrabas Logistics again.  Find her something more suitable to wear.  Make her look like a free civilian woman.   That’s what Leena is now.”

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

“I will be gone only a few days.  As soon as I return, we leave for Dromund Kaas.  There is a great deal of work to be done.  In the meantime, get that slave collar removed from her.  She is no longer a slave.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Looking grim and thoroughly distracted, the Sith announces, “I am off to war.  The Republic will pay dearly for the lives of my men.   Remain here with Leena for the interim.  Set up as many interviews as possible for the villa.  There is no time to waste.”

 

“Yes, Master.  In case you need it, Master.”  The servant offers Malgus something that resembles a breathing mask. 

 

“Thank you.”  The Sith accepts it and tucks it into a pocket. 

 

“Anything further?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then may the Force be with you, Master.” 

 

The Sith begins to depart when Eleena stops him.  She’s panicking a little at this abrupt arrival and departure.  “Wait—you’re leaving?”   In one day, this man has killed her master, twice saved her life, and promised her freedom.  But now he is disappearing again and leaving her locked in a Sith warship with a stranger named Jose for company.   “You’re going back to war??”

 

“Yes.  I am Sith.  War is my life,” he answers proudly.  He looks impatient to be away.

 

Eleena nods and swallows.  She is still mostly clueless about this man and his devotion to his cause or his religion or however you describe being Sith.  “What if you don’t come back?” she blurts out.  “What happens to me?”   It’s an honest, blunt question. 

 

“Jose will see to you.  He will help you start a new life as a free woman.”

 

Eleena’s eyes find the attendant dressed in expensive black livery and she nods. “Okay.  Thank you.”  Then she impulsively blesses Malgus like his servant did.  “May the Force be with you, my lord.”

 

He smiles at her words.  Lord Malgus doesn’t smile much, she’s noticed.  It’s almost like he’s reluctant to do so.  But when he does, his whole face lifts and changes.  Even with his strong features and habitual intense glower, he is a handsome man.  But when he smiles, Darth Malgus is downright charming. 

 

Eleena can’t help it.  She smiles back.   And now, she is really wondering who is this Darth Malgus?  

 

With a swirl of his flowing cape, the Sith is gone.  Both she and the newcomer Jose watch in silence as he leaves.

 

“He likes you.”  When Jose says this, he sounds almost surprised.  The Sith’s manservant turns kind, sympathetic eyes on her as he begins, “My name is Jose Escriva.  The Master told me your story.   You have had a harrowing day.”

 

“Master?”  Eleena reacts to his particular choice of honorific.  “Jose, are you a slave too?”

 

“No,” he smiles patiently at the question and takes no offense.  “The Master does not keep slaves.  I am a free man in the employ of Darth Malgus.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

“There are slaves in the Empire,” Jose explains further, “but the Master believes that free people paid a livable wage make better employees than forced labor.”

 

“Oh.”   She is puzzled.  “Then why do you call him Master?” Eleena asks.

 

“Darth Malgus is a Sith Lord.  His subordinates and fighting men address him as ‘my lord,’ his peers call him by name, and the members of his family and his household call him ‘Master.’”

 

“I see.”

 

“When the Master finally fosters an Apprentice, they will call him ‘Master’ too.  That is the tradition of the Sith.  An Apprentice is something like a surrogate son.  The Apprentice lives in the household.” 

 

Eleena nods again.  She stammers out awkwardly, “Forgive me, but I know nothing of the Sith.  I’m from the Republic.”

 

“Yes, he told me.”  Jose continues speaking in that quiet, friendly manner of his.  “Well, it looks like you and I will be spending the next few days together.  Eleena, I manage the Master’s personal affairs and normally I work at the station or at the villa.  Typically, one of the Master’s aides-de-camp would be looking after you since this is a warship.  But with what happened . . . ”    He makes a face and stops.

 

“His aides are all dead,” Eleena finishes softly. 

 

Jose nods.  “That is why I am called to serve the Master here.  This is most unusual, but given the circumstances things will be different for now.”

 

“Okay,” Eleena breathes out, wondering what all this means for her.   And now that there is someone around to explain a few things, she keeps asking questions.  “Jose, why does everyone dislike him so?”  Eleena is still trying to understand the dynamics at play here.  She isn’t sure what to make of the ugly confrontation she had witnessed in the hangar bay.  But one thing is clear—Lord Malgus is not popular with his friends or his enemies. 

 

The manservant shrugs.  “The Sith are very competitive, and there are many who are jealous of the Master’s accomplishments and prowess.  He is a fierce fighting man, but he is never cruel without reason.” 

 

She gulps.  That doesn’t sound good.

 

Jose now tells her pointedly, “Darth Malgus is also a man who holds unpopular opinions on any number of things.  The Master is not shy about his opinions.  And in his youth, he had a tendency to act and speak very brashly.”

 

Yes, she could see that about him.  Nothing about Darth Malgus strikes her as shy or retiring. 

 

“But that was long ago.  These days, the Master is very measured.  Darth Malgus is no hothead.  He walks away from more fights than he picks.”

 

“They ridiculed him,” Eleena recalls aloud.  She had been taken aback at the contempt of his peers.  Lord Malgus is a hero of the Sith Empire, right?   At least that’s how the Republic newsfeeds view him.  But clearly, that renown has not earned him respect among his own kind.

 

Jose doesn’t seem surprised.  “The Lords of the Sith are aggressive men.  There’s always some Sith mouthing off to the Master about something or other.  He rarely concerns himself with it.  He won’t be baited.  He just walks on by.”

 

“One of them even pulled a sword,” she remembers.

 

Loyal Jose answers philosophically.  “Only a man who stands for nothing has no enemies.”

 

“Yes, but this was about more than just ideas.  This was personal,” Eleena persists softly.

 

Jose sighs.  “Let me guess, that was Lord Adraas?  He’s here on this ship.”

 

“I don’t know who it was,” Eleena admits.  “There were two men.  One was young and the other wasn’t.”

 

“Darth Adraas is different. That one gets under the Master’s skin.  With good reason,” the manservant openly scowls but does not elaborate.  After a moment, his intelligent eyes wander back to battered Eleena.  “He likes you,” Jose observes again thoughtfully.

 

“Yeah?  How could you tell?”

 

“He smiled at you.  The Master rarely lets anyone see him smile.”

 

“Why not?” Eleena asks, thinking this strange.

 

“He is Sith.”  Jose says this matter of fact, like it should explain everything.  But to the Republic born slave Eleena Daru it does not.  She is just beginning to understand these black clad warriors of the Force.

Three quiet days later, a completely healed Eleena and a very busy Jose are on a borrowed Sith military transport enroute to Lord Malgus’ villa on Dromund Kaas.  “Wow,” Eleena remarks.  She’s looking out the window as the shuttle finishes its descent to the crowded private landing pad adjacent to the house.  “This looks even bigger than my old Master’s place.”

Beside her, Jose looks sort of proud at this reaction.  “The Master keeps a residence on-world mostly for meetings like today.  He tends to drop in for a day or two at the most.”

 

“Because he is away at war?” she surmises.

 

“Yes.  But also because he prefers the anonymity and safety of the station.   He comes here only to do business.  The villa is sort of like a glorified office.  The station is the Master’s real home.”

 

The station?  “What’s the station?”

 

“The Master owns a private space station in this system.”

 

“Oh.”  And that news is actually way more impressive than the sight of this big, fancy house.  “Wow,” Eleena breathes again.  Owning your own space station is one step away from having your very own satellite moon, she thinks.  Lord Malgus must be very rich indeed.

 

As soon as the shuttle touches down, Eleena jumps to her feet.  She wants to enjoy the feel of non-recycled air and real gravity.  She is very happy to be off that Sith warship.  This house looks much nicer than the borrowed military quarters she has been holed up in for days. 

 

Eleena looks over, suddenly feeling Jose’s eyes on her.  She blushes at her girlish excitement and flashes him a sheepish smile.  The mild-mannered manservant just looks amused.  He’s enjoying that she’s enjoying herself.

 

As she follows Jose down the shuttle ramp, Eleena’s eyes sweep over the meticulously maintained vegetation.  Dromund Kaas is a humid jungle planet with twisting trees and flowering vines growing everywhere in a tangled mess.  All except here where the jungle has been tamed into a semblance of order.  Truly, this is the fanciest landing pad Eleena has ever seen.  It’s more like descending into a beautiful, fragrant garden.  After days locked away in bland military rooms, it is a delight to the senses. 

 

The new dress Eleena is wearing swishes about her ankles as she walks.  This too makes Eleena happy inside.  She hasn’t worn a dress since she was a little girl.  And she has never owned anything half so nice as the soft blue dress and matching boots Jose had presented her with today.   If she sees Lord Malgus, she plans to thank him. 

 

“Come inside,” Jose beckons her forward and together they enter the spacious foyer of what can only be described as a very severe but opulent home.  Everywhere Eleena looks, there are sharp angles and hard stone surfaces.  The décor seems to be an ever-changing variant of silver, red, black, and white.  Looking around, Eleena thinks it appears very impressive but not terribly comfortable.  It’s all sort of hard and cold looking.

 

“There are eight bedrooms and a number of reception and meeting rooms.  Plus, the usual training room and meditation room.”  Jose keeps up his narration about the house as they traverse the entryway and cross through an open-air atrium.  “We are in the Fifth District, right outside the Imperial Citadel.”  Rey looks blankly at Jose because this information is lost on her.  He explains, “This is very, very expensive real estate.”

 

“Oh.”   You can sort of tell no one actually lives here, Eleena thinks as she unabashedly looks around.  The villa is more like a museum of beautiful things than an actual home.   And if there are clues to be found here about Lord Malgus the man, she doesn’t spy any.  All this luxury is far too generic looking for a man so distinctive, she decides.  The villa strikes her as a lot of credits wasted on a showplace the Master rarely visits.  He must be keeping up appearances.

 

Off to the side of the main hallway, Eleena notices a group of men in military uniforms milling about.   But Jose walks right by.

 

“This is the capital world of the Sith Empire, right?” she asks, hurrying to keep up.

 

“Yes.  Any Sith Lord worth his saber calls Kaas City home.”

 

“But not the Master,” she murmurs, recalling Jose’s earlier comment.  Apparently, Darth Malgus bows to convention, but only so far.  “Why doesn’t he like it here?  It’s so pretty.”

 

Jose chooses his words carefully.  “Dromund Kaas is a world that is very hierarchical and not particularly welcoming.”

 

“He doesn’t like his peers,” Eleena guesses, remembering that ugly confrontation when she and Lord Malgus exited the escape pod.

 

Jose frowns.  “It’s more that they do not like him.”

 

“Then who are all those men we passed back there waiting?” she wants to know.

 

“Those are military officers who will be considered for a command on his new ship.   The Master lost all his most trusted officers and seasoned troops with his cruiser.   He will need to rebuild his command structure immediately.  He has been working night and day on that task, actually.”

 

“Well, it looks like he will have plenty of men to choose from,” she observes with a glance out the window at the group of men.

 

Jose agrees.  “No one can fault Lord Malgus in battle.  It is a great honor to serve under him.  Those men in the hallway are but a fraction of those who will want to sign up.  The Sith being the Sith, as soon as news of his cruisier got around, we started receiving inquiries.”  The manservant shrugs cynically.  “There are many officers prepared to desert their current posts to trade up to Lord Malgus.  This is an extraordinary opportunity and it has created quite a stir in the Sith naval ranks.”

 

“So the Master is here to choose new officers?  Are those the interviews you have been setting up?”

 

“Yes, and that’s a tricky thing because for the most part these men will all be leaving the command of one of his rivals.  That makes their loyalty a bit suspect and it could create conflicts with their prior Sith overlords.” 

 

Eleena nods at this.  She’s learning that wherever Darth Malgus goes, conflict seems to follow.  Lord Malgus is already here at the villa, she knows.  Jose had said that he arrived last night directly from whatever battle he had been at.  

 

“The Master will be interviewing candidates to captain his new ship later today,” Jose reveals.  “This morning, the Master is receiving Sith visitors and attending to other private business.”

 

“So the other Sith do like him somewhat?”  Eleena is still trying to understand the power dynamics at play.

 

“Yes and no.  There are many Sith who want their sons to serve a cycle or two under the Master’s command because they admire his battle prowess.  But while they recognize the value of his training and skills, they don’t want their sons to apprentice to Darth Malgus.”

 

“What’s an apprentice?” she asks.  There is so much she doesn’t understand about the Sith Empire.  Eleena is grateful that Jose is so forthcoming.  She has repeatedly pestered him for information with a running list of questions.

 

“Sith Lords train younger warriors,” Jose tells her as they keep walking through the luxurious villa.  “The Republic Jedi do the same.  A younger man who has finished at the Academy learns from an older man for years until he himself is ready to become a Lord of the Sith.”

 

“And Lord Malgus does not train anyone?”  This sort of surprises her.  Eleena remembers him ordering her to pick up a blaster and start shooting.  Darth Malgus would probably be a good teacher, she thinks.  She could see him being patient.

 

“Sith families are very strategic about who trains their sons.  Power among the Sith is one part birthright, one part talent, and one part connections.    A man with—shall we say—high negatives like Lord Malgus is a risky choice as a Sith Master.  For an Apprentice tends to inherit all the friends and enemies of his Master.  Lord Malgus has far more enemies than friends.”

 

Yes, she has seen that firsthand.  “This place is . . . very different,” she says softly, searching for the right word.

 

“Sith society is very hierarchical,” Jose underscores his previous comment.  “Much more so than the Republic, I believe.  But the high stakes game of power only exists at these elite levels.  None of the rest of us get to compete.”  Jose continues to speak frankly.  “Eleena, the best strategy is to find a powerful Sith Master to serve and then attempt to stay out of the way.  Ours is a system of patronage mostly.  Having a powerful Master is advantageous.”

 

“I understand power,” Eleena responds softly.  Few have the vantage point on the distinctions and inequities of life like a slave who lives at the bottom.  “How long have you served the Master?” she asks.

 

“I served the Master’s Sith Master, Lord Vindican, until Lord Malgus killed him on Korriban years ago.   Since then, I have served Lord Malgus.”

 

“Even though he killed your original Master?”  Eleena is bewildered by this turn of events.   And a little dismayed, too.  Who is this Darth Malgus, she wonders yet again. 

 

Jose levels with her now.  “Eleena, there is much to admire about Lord Malgus.  He is remarkably fair for a man in his position.  That is why he is held in high esteem among the military.  The Master is disciplined and reasoned.  That is not true of all Sith.   The Dark Side can tend to make men capricious and cruel.  Lord Malgus is never cruel without reason.”

 

“But why did he kill his Master?”  This violent, male-dominated kill-or-be-killed warrior culture of the Sith has Eleena perplexed.  And not a little intimidated, too.

 

“It was punishment for failing to kill a Jedi.  The Master holds his peers to a different standard than the rest of us.  As a rule, Sith Lords treat other Sith Lords far differently than they treat common folk.  Usually, that means we are treated as inferiors.  With the Master, we are just different.  He does not suffer fools gladly, but he is not unduly harsh to those who serve him.  Not so when it comes to his fellow Sith Lords.  The Master has high standards.  He can be ruthless with them.”

 

“Oh.”  Eleena remembers Darth Malgus trying several times to walk away from the fight she witnessed in the hangar bay.  If he is sometimes ruthless, she thinks, then he must have been provoked.

 

She and Jose now step aside as a square jawed, red skinned man clad in flowing black purposely strides down the center of the hallway they are standing in.  The man does not even seem to notice them.  He just assumes they will cede him ground to pass.  And they do.  The man looks angry, but maybe that is the default setting of a Dark Lord.  Eleena isn’t sure.

 

She turns to watch the man depart.  Eleena is beginning to recognize a Sith when she sees one.  Always in black, conspicuously armed, sometimes armored, sometimes masked, but always dangerous.  These men march with a confidence that borders on arrogance and command without hesitation.   They are every inch entitled aristocrats.

 

“That was Lord Serevin leaving,” Jose tells her in low tones.  “If the Master is done with him, then he has only one more meeting before his session with the financial advisors.   Eleena, that is why you are here.”  Jose reaches into the bag slung over his shoulder to retrieve a datapad.  He punches at it a moment before handing it over.  “The Master specifically asked for your presence during the meeting with the financial guys.  Here are the meeting materials.  Go over them and be prepared to participate.”

 

“Me?  He wants me in the meeting?”  Eleena glances down at the datapad that shows a full set of financial statements.  She starts swiping past a balance sheet, an income statement, and page after page of explanatory footnotes.

 

“Yes.  You are an accountant, are you not?”

 

“Well, yes.”  Eleena feels a bit flustered.  “Jose, what is this all about?” she demands.

 

The longtime servant gives her a sly smile as he leans in to confide, “Knowing the Master, I would guess that he is angling to get you a job.”  Jose nods at her encouragingly.  “We all owe you a debt of gratitude for helping the Master.  This will begin to make things right.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Now that he is alone with five minutes to spare before his next meeting, Darth Malgus rubs at his eyes.  Things have been intense lately, even by Sith standards.  He’s stressed and it’s a mix of good and bad.  For out of the blue, life started changing and it kept changing fast. 

 

One average day, he was doing routine patrols and heading to personally interrogate a civilian contractor he suspected of treachery.   Mostly because he was bored.  The next thing he knew, his ship was lost and he was floating helpless in space with a random Twi’lek woman.  After he was rescued, he received an unsolicited offer for a marriage alliance and it’s a good one.   And to top it all off, Darth Angral now wants him to plot an invasion of the Republic Core.

 

And that’s how Malgus finds himself bleary eyed from staying up all night studying schematics to retrofit an old capital ship consigned to be cannibalized for spare parts years ago.  He spends much of his morning haggling with Darth Serevin over a marriage settlement while trying hard not to let on how desperately he needs the alliance.  Soon, he will spend his afternoon interviewing candidates for his captain position, even though none of them are the equal of his second-in-command who had gone down with his ship four days ago.  

 

But such are the changing fortunes of war and the Force.   One day, you are comfortable in your current situation and plotting to improve it.  The next day, you are utterly defeated and desperate to rebuild to the position that yesterday you were dissatisfied with.  Malgus knows that he has no choice but to grit his teeth and persevere to claw his way back to glory.   He’s in too far and has too much to lose to give up now.  Still, the task is daunting.  Never did he think he would be in this position.

 

His ship is lost and he must rebuild his fighting force from scratch immediately.  It is an enormous task. Where normally he would consult with his senior officers about even one new key hire, there is no one left alive to ask about the twenty new men he will hire this week alone.  Malgus is forced to work off intuition, credentials, and reputation to choose new commanders.  Then, he will have to trust their judgment to fill in the ranks below. 

 

Angral’s offer to help with a plan to invade the Core only puts more pressure on Malgus to arrange his new command ship ASAP.  For Malgus is not about to plot a new battle strategy for the Dark Council that he himself cannot be a major part of implementing.  But that means somewhere he is going to need to find the time to envision a new strategy, refine it, and present it to Angral.  And then he and Angral will have to shop it around to others to drum up enough support to get an audience with the Council.  All in all, it’s a big opportunity but it’s also a lot of work. 

 

The overture from Serevin is also a big opportunity if he can reach a deal.  How marriage to Serevin’s daughter fits into the mix, Malgus doesn’t yet know.  But Serevin’s connections certainly will help.  And now that Malgus is less certain of the loyalty and abilities of his yet to be re-assembled troops, he feels the need to bolster his political connections as a hedge.   He has always been very successful in the field of war but that was when he had complete confidence up and down his handpicked chain of command.  Things are different now.

 

It all boils down to lots of work and quite a bit of risk.  And that has him worried and stressed. 

 

The payback for his ship helped to release a bit of his anger and frustration.  Using Angral’s forces, Malgus had managed to destroy all of the Barrabas Logistics assets along with two Republic capital ships in the process.  That will help to mitigate his own cruiser’s loss in the eyes of the Council, he hopes.  His version of the narrative has him discovering a plot, surviving it, and succeeding in annihilating the traitor shipping magnate and his assets.  That he lost a cruiser is unfortunate, but his enemy paid twice as dearly in the end.  That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. 

 

For now, at least, the Council seems mollified.  They declined to demote his rank and they gave him a replacement ship without any investigation.  Apparently, there was never any question that he would retain his command.  Old Darth Azamin, a longstanding crony of the Emperor and longtime member of the Council, had sent a one sentence message to that effect.  The unsolicited feedback had been reassuring.  Malgus needed that vote of confidence.

 

But yet again, he rubs his eyes.  Then he glances down at today’s jampacked schedule on his datapad and sighs.  Time to talk about the thing that concerns him the least:  credits.  The financial guys are probably waiting in the conference room down the hall.  And where is the Twi’lek woman?   At Jose’s intervention, he had agreed to include her in this meeting.  Malgus gets up and plods heavily to the door to stick his head out.  And there she is waiting in the hall.  Malgus stares a long moment, for her unexpected appearance arrests him.

 

Leena is looking down at a datapad.  She is wearing a very simple blue dress in a color just darker than her skin tone.  The dress is very demure, with long sleeves and a modest round neckline.  It skims her curves rather than clings but just seeing their outline is a bit of a reveal.  Malgus had an inkling of what lay under Leena’s boxy jumpsuit but he would not have guessed this degree of exaggeration.   It’s like you took the caricature of a curvy Twi’lek woman and stretched that version both taller and wider.  Her fleshy shape has stature uncommon to women of her kind and it makes her appear queenlike.  Altogether, Leena gives an impression of softness mixed with power.  It is uniquely feminine, totally at odds with her slave status, and a complete reversal of her prior utilitarian appearance. 

 

He steps into the hallway and the door sliding shut behind him attracts her attention.  Leena looks over her shoulder at his approach.  As she turns, he catches her S-curve body in profile.  Her pretty lekku draped down her back sway gently with the movement.  It’s . . . well, it’s very attractive.   If you’re into that sort of thing, which he is not.  He doesn’t need to be distracted by a woman.  Certainly not now.  And certainly not by a woman so far beneath him.

 

“Lord Malgus.”   She smiles tentatively at him before she lowers her eyes.  “Jose mentioned that you wished me to sit in on this next meeting.”

 

He nods and approaches.  “I’m meeting with my accountants and you’re an accountant, so . . . “

 

“By putting us together, you thought we might account for things?” she laughs a little. 

 

“Something like that.”  Actually, he had scheduled this meeting with the upcoming marriage settlement in mind and it seemed like an opportune time to include Leena.  That way when afterwards Malgus leverages his influence as client to tell the accountants to find Leena a job somewhere, it won’t be completely without preamble.  Leena will be dealt with and settled someplace respectable on a Sith world where she would never get hired on her own as a freed slave.  Then Jose will get off his back and Malgus can feel satisfied that he has done right by this woman who twice alerted him to deadly danger. 

 

“Just play along, Leena.  Come,” he bids her to follow him into the conference room down the hall.  There sit a trio of dour looking number crunchers who dutifully state their names and job titles.  Then everyone looks expectantly at alien Leena.

 

That’s his cue.  “This is Eleena Daru.   She is my accountant.”  At least for purposes of this meeting, she is.

 

His advisors bristle at this. “But Lord Malgus, we have been your accountants for years.”  The senior bean counter turns to Leena and sizes her up.  “What firm are you with, Ms. Daru?”

 

Malgus intercedes.  “She is in-house.”  Then he hastens to end the introductions.  “Let’s get started.  Give me the gist of what has changed since the last quarter.” 

 

The lead man launches into an overview while highlighting items of note on the financial statements.   Malgus is only half listening.  He is not the richest Sith, but he has considerable wealth.  Not that he cares much.  Chasing credits is a pastime for the working classes.  He is a warrior Sith and credits are just one more means to keep score.   His money comes from war prizes and his success on the battlefield has been richly rewarded through the years.  But now those credits will be put to their highest and best use:  the pursuit of power.  In this case, by marriage.

 

Malgus is mostly concerned about his financial position because the marriage settlement Darth Serevin has proposed threatens to bankrupt him.  But today’s discussion with Serevin was only the beginning of the negotiation.  Malgus fully intends to talk Serevin down quite a bit.  When the diplomat Sith had named an outrageous figure for his widowed daughter, Malgus had digested it for a minute.  Then he had asked point blank what the settlement had been for his daughter’s first marriage.  Why is that relevant, Serevin had asked defensively.  Because the price for a virgin bride at age twenty with the promise of sons ought to be higher than the cost to take your thirty-five-year-old widowed daughter with two kids off your hands.  Darth Serevin had taken offense at this plain speaking and stormed from the room.  But he’ll be back.  Malgus could sense how hungry Serevin had been for a deal.

 

Malgus focuses back on the meeting and listens to the accountant types drone on and on about internal rates of return on his various investments.   They want to know if his investment risk tolerance has changed.  And that seems like a silly question for a Sith.  Risk is a regular occurrence for him.  Not financial risk, but real risk.  Like I’m-facing-a-Jedi-in-a-duel-at-the-battlefront risk.  Losing a battle or even your life is far more risk than losing mere credits. 

 

Beside him, Malgus can sense Leena holding her tongue.  He turns to her. “Speak up with your questions at will.”

 

And she does.  Malgus sits back to listen.  Leena starts asking about sector strategies and hedging transactions.  She wants to know why he isn’t getting better interest rates and using currency swaps and  very quickly she is covering a host of other financial topics, some of which he quite frankly doesn’t understand.  He finds much of this financial jargon impenetrable.  He’s a warrior and not an accountant.  He is schooled in power and command and not in business.  Leena’s questions are all asked in a quiet respectful tone but after the tenth question, he can see his advisors starting to chafe at having to explain themselves.  The extended exchange is very illuminating, Malgus thinks.  Both of Leena and his advisors.   And he notices that when Leena speaks of her subject matter, she looks and acts just like the professionals she sits across from.  All the subtle postures of deference and quick impulses to subservience disappear. No one would guess that she is a slave in this setting.

 

When it has gone on long enough, Malgus comes out with the true reason for the meeting.  I may need to raise cash, he reveals.   Then he names an eye-popping sum that is twenty-percent less than Serevin had the gall to demand.  What for, Leena asks.  He thinks a moment before answering that he is considering purchasing an asset.   What sort of asset, she follows up.   Is this real estate, an ongoing business, or perhaps a new capital ship?  He thinks another moment and decides that Serevin’s daughter will be mostly akin to real estate.  She will cost a lot and he will have to upkeep her for years. 

 

His advisors start talking about strategies for liquidating assets.  Leena starts talking about financing alternatives to an outright sale.  Maybe he can borrow against his current positions and use the future profits to pay off the loan.  She has some other creative ideas that meet with skepticism from across the table.  You sound less like a Sith and more like a Muun, they tell her.  Malgus watches as Leena flushes and is put in her place.  We don’t do those sorts of Muun machinations here, she is told.  And that ends the meeting fast. 

 

Leena looks frustrated after the other men file out of the room.  “Nothing I suggested is very controversial.  Those men seem very resistant to change,” she grumbles.

 

Malgus nods his understanding.   The status quo reigns supreme in all aspects of Sith society, he gripes.  It’s like their entire culture is happily stuck in a rut and can’t see it.  That resistance to change will never win the galaxy, he fears.  And even if it does, it will never keep it.

 

“I wonder if they would have listened if I were one of them,” Leena thinks aloud. 

 

“They did not know you were a slave,” Malgus corrects her. 

 

“They knew I wasn’t human,” she responds softly.  “They probably never would have sat across from me in this meeting had they known my background.  It would have offended them to be considered on equal footing with me.”  Leena makes a face.  “But then I wouldn’t have had to listen to them mansplain away basic financing structures for ten minutes.”

 

“You took that really well,” he observes as someone well versed in giving a reprimand.

 

“I have been a slave my whole life,” Leena answers.  “That’s probably the most polite way that anyone has ever disagreed with my opinion.  If they knew I was a slave, they probably wouldn’t have even bothered to listen.”

 

Her observation hits home. “Sometimes people cannot recognize truth when they hear it unless it comes from someone who they can relate to.  The unknown woman with more innovative ideas than their own threatens them.”   Just like a low-class outsider Sith like himself cannot seem to make headway either.  Malgus knows that a man with his war record ought to be on the Dark Council by now or at least a Councilor’s direct report.  There are three Council seats that directly relate to war, after all.  But that level of achievement feels permanently beyond his grasp.   Even before he lost his ship, Malgus was marginalized time and again when the insular Sith establishment closed ranks to exclude him and block his ascent.

 

He sighs.  “Leena, I had thought to introduce you today to my advisors and then have them hire you on.  But I am not convinced that accounting firm is a good solution for you.”

 

Actually, originally Malgus had thought to simply give her some credits and send her on her way.  But then Jose had tactfully pointed out her predicament as a newcomer to whatever world she lands on with no job references or credentials to show for herself and no explanation other than her slave background.  Would you hire her, Jose had asked to make his point.  That had led Malgus to the idea of getting her hired on with his own accountants here on Dromund Kaas.  But now that seems a bad fit.  And should that even matter?  Even a miserable low-level job with his priggish accountants is a step up from Leena’s prior existence as a slave at Barrabas Logistics. 

 

Why is he taking such personal notice of this woman’s future?  Probably because she reminds him of himself.  He and Eleena Daru are very different people in very different circumstances and yet in some respects they are quite the same.  And that’s ridiculous.  He’s a Sith lord and she’s a slave.  He makes war, she balances accounts.  But he’s an outsider on his own trying to make his way in a hostile world and so is she now.  Maybe some people would find that kinship a stretch, but Malgus feels it all the same.

 

Leena is looking at him fearfully.  He can sense in the Force her deep unease about the future.

 

He slaps at the table and grumbles now.  “Leena, you were the one problem I thought I could solve today.”   She was the one thing he could accomplish and cross off his overflowing list . . . or so he had thought.  “We will find an alternative arrangement for you,” he decides.  He’s got bigger problems to deal with right now and it’s not like this woman is problematic to keep around.  Leena is clearly very bright and Jose seems to genuinely like her.   Jose will find some use for her for a few days longer until they find a better solution.  

 

Leena takes that comment for a dismissal and stands.  “Yes, Sir . . . er, my lord . . . uh, Master . . .”  Her stammering confusion about what to call him provokes a smile.   “And thank you for the dress.  It’s so beautiful,” she gushes, then looks embarrassed.  Again, her eyes fall to the floor.  This is her habit, he’s noticed.  Eleena Daru speaks her mind and then pretends demureness.  Malgus rather suspects there is very little demure about this woman at her core.   And maybe that carefully hidden strength of character is what resonates with him.  After today’s meeting, he has grown far too intrigued by this slave woman.

 

The dress is pretty in a simple way, he supposes as he looks her up and down.  Given all the usual hypersexualized imagery of Twi’lek women, Leena looks like she could be a Jedi nun in this very covered up, unadorned dress.  But he nods magnanimously all the same.  If nothing else, it is an improvement over that awful jumpsuit.  “It looks good on you, Leena.”

 

She nods earnestly and flushes some more.

 

“Twirl for me?” he prompts her impulsively.  Out of nowhere, this alien slave reminds him of his little sister long gone who used to delight in a new dress and rush to show it off.

 

“W-What??” Leena blinks at this request.

 

“Go on, twirl for me,” he coaxes.  Leena blushes bright red all the way to her lekku, but she does a little awkward three hundred sixty degree turn.  Malgus grunts his approval.  Then he dismisses Leena and goes back to business.  He needs to make headway today.  


	7. Chapter 7

Eleena is sitting off to the side of the shuttle that is enroute to the space station which Lord Malgus calls home.  She is only half-listening to the ongoing hologram comcall that Lord Malgus and Jose are having with the newly selected captain for the Sith’s new ship.  The comcall has been going on for at least two hours now as the military men haggle over who will fill the senior officer ranks. 

_Jose, did you get that?  Make the call and make the offer ASAP._

_Yes, Master._

_Good.  Let’s move onto Engineering._

_Brandt is my first choice._

_Tell me about him._

_Brandt is a her._

_I don’t want women on my ship.   I don’t want to deal with that._

_With all due respect, my lord, Brandt is the best person for the job.  She is very capable._

_Fraternizing is inevitable, Commander.  It breeds conflict.  I do not care what my troops do on their own time or who they do it with, but I will not have that on my ship. I want my men focused on war not the woman down the hall.  Women are a distraction to fighting men._

_My lord, women are present on other ships of the Empire at all levels of responsibility—_

_Except mine._

_But you have been known to employ mercenaries that include women._

_Those women were aliens and they were temporary.  There was no time for relationships to develop._

_As you wish, my lord.  The alternative choice is listed next on the memorandum._

_He’s under Angral.  We are not poaching from Angral.  We need Angral’s support.  Who is your third choice?_

_I don’t have a third choice._

_Fine.  Contact the woman and see if she is interested.  She can have to glory of being the first female officer on my command ship.   But you are in charge of policing her personal life, Captain.  What’s next?   Skip to navigation.  Who do we have on the list for Chief Navigator?  I want someone with experience in the Unknown Regions._

 

_I have the perfect candidate.  Well, almost perfect.  She’s a woman._

_Again, with the women?  Fine, hire her.  I don’t want to fly through a star or bounce too close to a supernova.  And if we can have one woman onboard, we might as well have two . . ._

The Sith looks tired, Eleena sees glancing over.  As far as she can tell, Darth Maglus works around the clock.  Two days into the flurry of activity at the Kaas City villa, the Sith had announced he had chosen a right-hand man in Captain Ledbetter.  The man in question was immediately dispatched to the Taerab shipyards to inspect the _Absolute_ , an out-of-commission clunker warship which is docked for a complete overhaul and a weapons upgrade before it will be released to Lord Malgus.  But even lightyears away, the Sith and his captain are in constant contact as the work continues. 

 

Eleena herself has nothing to do.  She has spent the last two days just like she has spent all the prior ones:  surfing the holonet.  It’s boring.  Eleena is not a person used to being idle.  Back at the warehouse, she worked seven days a week as ships came and went bringing and hauling away freight at all odd hours.   Inevitably when she sat down at her desk in the morning, there was a backlog of manifests and shipping records from the deliveries that had come into the local spaceport overnight.  But now, she has nothing to do.  The worst part about having all this time on her hands is that it gives Eleena far too much time to fret.  She has no idea what the future will bring now.  And is she truly free?   She doesn’t feel free.  Eleena worries that she has traded one master for the next.   

 

When finally Lord Malgus’ space station looms into view, it looks like a giant toy, like a child’s top set to spin.  It rotates majestically on its tilted axis deep in gloomy open space.  As the shuttle enters the hangar bay, Eleena’s eyes are glued to the window.  This landing bay is almost as large as the hangar of the Sith dreadnought the escape pod had landed in.  But that’s where the similarities end.  This hangar space is very quiet and still.  It is sparsely filled with a few military transports and a small size cruiser yacht, all parked in a neat row. 

 

As they descend the shuttle ramp, an assembly of about thirty men and women, all human, await their arrival.  Like the parked spacecraft, these people stand quietly in a neat row.  These are the members of the Sith’s private household who populate the station.  There are a cook and several assistants, maintenance workers, technicians of every kind, a gardener and several maids.  Each lives on the station, some with a spouse.  When Eleena later asks why Lord Malgus doesn’t employ droids for some of these positions, Jose tells her that the Sith have a general suspicion of non-sentients.  Droids can be programmed for mischief undetected, he tells her.  But the Master can always sense danger from another life form in the Force. 

 

As the trio of her, Jose, and Lord Malgus approach, the assembly all bow low in unison. The eldest among them, a woman wearing a neat apron, steps forward to formally receive the Master.  She says with great dignity, “Welcome home, Master.  May the Force be with your crew.”

 

“Indeed,” the Sith replies in equally grave tones.  “They died heroes for our war effort.”

 

Jose speaks up.  “The Master’s new ship is not yet available.  This will be the command center for the time being,” he informs the household staff.  “We will be expecting many guests in the coming days.”

 

As Jose starts issuing instructions, Lord Malgus looks around a moment before letting loose a long, loud whistle.  At this signal, two giant grey wolfhounds come charging up to greet him.  And once again, Eleena catches the Sith flash a rare smile.  The dogs are clearly very excited to see their Master, jumping up and barking sharply.   Then after a moment they start assessing her, the only newcomer to arrive.   Like their Master, the dogs’ default setting seems to be aggression.  The larger jumps up at Eleena with snapping teeth and paws that nearly reach her chest.

 

“Down, Simus!  Down, Ragnos!”   The dogs completely ignore the stern commands of Lord Malgus.  And that’s the first time Eleena has ever seen that happen.    She can’t help it—a little giggle slips out. 

 

Eleena likes dogs.  So she stands still for the growling, snarling pair to sniff her.  When they relax, she sinks to one knee and starts scratching ears and patting heads.  Soon she is getting her face licked and being presented with bellies to scratch. 

 

“Which one are you?”  Eleena smiles down at the smaller of the two.

 

“That’s Simus,” the Master answers gruffly.

 

“Hello there.  And you must be Ragnos.  I’m going to call you Rags and your friend here Simmy, if that’s okay.”  Rags is busy licking her face now as Simmy whimpers to complain that he is being denied the chance.  “Rags, you’re the alpha aren’t you?” she laughs as the dog gets her with a big slurp.   “Yuck!” she laughs again, wiping at her face.  “That was a slobbery kiss!”

 

Eleena looks up and sees that everyone is watching her.  Staring at her.  Suddenly self-conscious, she climbs to her feet.  “I like dogs,” she explains softly as her face grows hot.

 

“They certainly like you,” the Sith observes dryly. 

 

After all the greetings and instructions are done, Jose bids her to follow one of the housemaids.  “Eleena, she will show you to a room where you can stay while you’re here.”

 

She nods and leans in to ask in a half-whisper.  “Where is the Mistress?  Is there a wife?”  Surely Darth Malgus has some family here.

 

Evidently, her whisper was too loud because Lord Malgus himself answers.  “There is no wife.  Not yet, at least.”

 

Eleena feels her face flush with embarrassment for being caught asking so personal a question.  And now she belatedly recalls Malgus telling her that he was all alone.   And he’s only alone if you ignore the thirty people employed here to cater to his every whim.  Eleena doesn’t much think that counts as being alone.

 

The work to recruit officers for Lord Malgus’ new ship continues unabated at the station.  Eleena remains in the background, of course.   She is but a bystander to the flurry of faces and ships that come and go at all hours.  The household staff is overwhelmed at times by all the visitors so Eleena is pressed into service now and then.  Some days she is a one woman welcoming committee, repeatedly receiving new arrivals in the hangar bay and conducting them to and from Jose.   The manservant has become the unofficial gatekeeper to the Sith as his de facto aide-de-camp.  Guests cool their heels in the conference rooms that the kitchen staff keep supplied with food and strong caf round the clock.  The military men and a few women hang out there waiting for their moment to impress the Sith.  The lucky ones who are chosen often never leave.  The housemaids find them a room to bunk in and then they join the growing group of soldiers who will form Darth Malgus’ core crew.

 

Eleena rarely sees the Sith himself except in passing. He is a remote figure of command. He doesn’t wear his armor and cape here at the station.  Instead, he sweeps past in long flowing black robes with the hood usually thrown back.  Eleena recognizes the conscious visual choice:  Darth Malgus is Sith.  He is the ultimate authority among everyone here and so he looks separate and apart from his military officers in neat uniforms and his tidy liveried servants.  As the lone alien wearing a blue dress, Eleena herself is the one who doesn’t belong.

 

More than once she notices Lord Malgus take a breath from the mask Jose had given him.  It seems to be a respirator of some kind.  Who knew that Darth Malgus was an asthmatic Sith?  When she casually asks the cook about the breathing mask she hears that it is from an old war injury at the Battle of Alderaan.  The Master’s lungs are damaged.  They will never heal fully and the severity of the impairment ebbs and flows.  Sometimes he wears the mask all the time, the cook tells her, but usually it’s just for an occasional breath or two.  He hates it, Eleena is sternly warned.  Never mention that weakness to him.  The Sith, Eleena is learning, must always posture to appear strong.

 

Eleena takes her meals with the staff in the kitchen and she sleeps on a couch in one of the housemaids’ rooms.  Everyone is friendly and accepting, but they are all so busy that there is little time to talk.  Plus, everyone seems to know that her situation is temporary and that it has already gone on too long.   Still, her role in helping the Master appears to be well known and Eleena reaps the benefit of that goodwill.  For despite Lord Maglus’ fearsome reputation, among his own household he appears to be universally—and quite protectively—beloved.

 

The space station itself is all military utilitarian efficiency in the hangar bay and amid the suites of conference rooms.  But the rest of the station is lovely.   It has none of the harsh, uncomfortable grandeur of the Kaas City villa that was clearly designed for show.  This is a home and it looks it.   The color palette is mostly silvery blue and grey hues with generous use of accents in black.  The furnishings are soft and plush and it’s all inviting but not overly luxurious.  As the station fills up, the lounge areas scattered about begin to overflow with uniformed men in deep, sometimes heated, discussions.  The men have their boots propped up on tables and drinks with them and no one seems to mind.   Because this is the kind of place where you can speak plainly and act plainly too.  As fancy as it is, there is nothing pretentious or precious about it. 

 

Eleena’s favorite spot in the station is the enormous multistory indoor garden with flowering plants and even tall trees.  In the middle of the garden is a soft green lawn that Rags and Simmy call home.  The two pets are sort of the icing on the cake in Eleena’s estimation.  Having them around is at first glance so unexpected.  But upon further reflection, it’s totally fitting. The space station must reflect the real man that is Darth Malgus, Eleena suspects.  Pragmatic, surprisingly casual, and a great deal less fierce than he lets on.

 

“You are doing the work of three men,” Eleena worries over bleary eyed Jose when they meet in the hallway late the fourth night.  Watching all this determined activity makes Eleena feel very idle.  Like she’s not doing her part.

 

“Actually, it’s probably more like two,” the manservant admits wearily.  “A lot of what I need to do isn’t getting done.”

 

“Like what?” she asks, eager to help.  She likes Jose and she can tell that the past ten days have taken their toll.

 

“It’s regular household stuff.  I haven’t paid the bills that were due last week.  I guess I will catch up on that later.  But I need to get to it soon since we will be dramatically upping our procurement needs now.” 

 

“Where are the household accounts?”  Jose shows her and soon Eleena is doing Jose’s old task of requisitioning supplies while he is closeted for hours each day with the Master.  

 

It’s not long before Eleena too is doing unusual tasks far outside her area of expertise.  Jose finds her one morning to ask if she will assist with the recruitment effort.  And how can she refuse?  That’s how Eleena finds herself back in her old Barrabas Logistics jumpsuit in the station’s large training room.  She is to be taught basic combat training by two Sith officers who are vying for the position of lead trooper drill sergeant.   If the men think that it is strange to be giving basic training to Darth Malgus’ female alien hanger-on, they don’t show it.   They are all business with Eleena.  She spends two full days with each man.  Eleena learns how to use a blaster and a vibroblade, how to evade enemy fire, and basic hand to hand combat.  It’s not like anything she has ever done before.  Actually, it’s kind of fun.  It’s also very physical.  Eleena is a sweaty, winded mess at the end of each day.  More than ready for a hot shower and bed.

 

At the end of the fourth day, the Master unexpectedly drops in.  “Shoot me,” he says without preamble. He speaks in his habitual gruff growl.  His face the usual blank expression.

 

Eleena blinks.  Has she misheard?  “I b-beg your pardon?”

 

“Shoot me.   That’s an order.”

 

“Uh . . .”  Eleena has lived her life as a slave and so she is accustomed to saying yes.  But she’s not a slave anymore.  She’s not even really an employee.  And so, she asserts herself directly against an authority figure for the very first time.  With a fortifying deep breath, Eleena summons her courage to respond.   “No.”

 

For some reason, the Sith smiles at this.  And he doesn’t look angry at all.

 

But has she been too disrespectful?   Eleena hastens to phrase it again. “N-No . . . Master . . . my lord . . . sir . . . please . . . ”  She says this with her voice squeaking nervously, ending up like a question.  So much for asserting herself.

 

He sees her unease.  “You’re not going to hurt me, Leena,” he explains.  “I will freeze the shot.  Now, shoot me and shoot to kill.”

 

“Uh . . . okay.  Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eleena knows the blaster is set to stun, so she raises it, takes aim and shoots for his chest.  It’s by far the largest part of him.  The Sith is built like a bear.  He is far from thin but not quite fat.  His hulking size makes him a bigger, easier target than the training targets hanging on the wall. 

 

The Sith freezes the plasma bolt.  It hangs buzzing and snapping in the air.

 

“Good. Now, shoot him.”  Malgus points to her instructor who stands at attention off to the side.

 

Again, the Sith freezes the blaster shot with the Force. 

 

“Now shoot Jose.”

 

Jose is standing the closest to her of all three men.  Will there be time to freeze that shot?  Eleena worries not.  “Do I have to?” she asks tepidly. 

 

The Sith chuckles at this.  “I guess I know where I rank in my own household,” he smirks.  “And, Leena, the answer is yes.”

 

Eleena does as she is told.  Again, he freezes her shot.

 

Lord Malgus takes a good look around and then motions everyone behind him before he releases the shots to slam harmlessly into the wall.  Then he looks approvingly at her.  “Either you are a natural or you have been very well taught in four days.  Which is it?” he demands

 

She looks over at her two instructors standing off to the side.  She gives credit where credit is due.  “I have been well taught.”

 

“By one or both of these men?”

 

Both?  Yes, both.  “Both.”

 

“Then you are both hired,” Darth Malgus decrees with a nod at the two candidates.  But he doesn’t stop there.  “Leena, spend an hour here each day this week on your own.  Practice your marksmanship,” he orders. 

 

“Yes, my lord.”  He and the other men start to leave when she speaks up.  “Can I ask why, my lord?”

 

The Sith half turns as he answers.  “You may have been well taught, but I tend to think that you are a natural.  I saw you when you first picked up a blaster, remember?”

 

“Oh.”

 

“There is a war going on, Leena.  In the future, you may need to defend yourself when there isn’t a Sith Lord around.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

And so, once a day Leena dutifully spends an hour shooting stun bolts at the practice targets in the training room.  The room is very large and clearly has been well used.  There are carbon scoring marks everywhere along its walls that must be from full strength blaster shots that have hit.  The stun bolts typically dissipate without leaving a mark, Eleena has noticed.  Stacked in the corner in neat rows are two dozen deactivated combat training droids.  The droids have multiple, lethal looking appendages that brandish everything from blasters to vibroblades to pikes and other weapons she cannot name.   She has never seen one in action and Eleena isn’t sure she wants to.

 

But she gets her chance when a few days later Eleena wanders in to practice shooting and walks in on the Sith himself.  It’s the first time she has seen him without his heavy armor or his trailing black cloak.  Lord Malgus seems positively undressed wearing just a black t-shirt, pants and boots.   And just look at those massive shoulders and rippling tendons and muscles in his pale arms.   This is a powerhouse of a man.  Eleena watches the Sith’s precise movements that are surprisingly quick.  Lord Malgus has a red sword in each hand that he uses to deflect incoming fire from the droid.  Bolt after bolt ricochets off his blades to impact the far walls with a thud and a scorch.  These are full strength blaster bolts, she sees with eyes wide.

 

“Hello, Leena.”  The Sith speaks without turning around.  And his words stop her, for she is moving to leave.  She has no wish to interrupt the Master at his craft.  And distraction might prove deadly in this circumstance.  “Come in, come in,” he tells her impatiently.  “I’m just finishing up.”  And with that statement, he hurls the sword in his left hand in a twirling arc that neatly cleaves the opponent droid in two.  It crashes to the ground in a mangled heap.  Then the Sith opens his palm and recalls the thrown saber.  He deactivates it and its counterpart as he turns around.

 

His eyes, she sees, are yellow.  That must mean he is deeply immersed in the Force.  It gives her pause.  Eleena takes a deep breath.  “I wondered what those droids were like,” she tells him, glancing past him at the multiple heaps of mechanical refuse.  It looks as if that droid was not the only droid destroyed today. 

 

“It’s not real combat, but it’s close,” the Sith allows with a shrug.

 

The impression Darth Malgus gives is so male, she thinks, with his thick neck and bald head.  Eleena can see the hair on his forearms and a tuft sticking up from the neckline of his shirt.  The shirt itself is sweat stained and clinging, pulled tight across his brawny chest and also outlining the beginnings of a thick middle.  This is a fighting man no longer young, but many years into his craft.   He is at the prime nexus of where the rising benefits of experience cross with the natural decline in the body’s ability.  Plus, he has the wildest of counterbalancing wildcards—Darth Malgus has the Force.  And he has it in spades.

 

“What is real combat like?” she asks impulsively.

 

“You've had a taste of it,” Malgus reminds her.  “It’s a rush like no other.”

 

“That was terrifying.  And chaotic . . . very random,” she recalls aloud. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“I think it would feel different now that I know more what to expect and how to shoot a blaster,” she muses.

 

He nods at his and then motions to the pen of deactivated droids.  Two fly forward with the help of the Force.  “Then let’s see, shall we?” he asks with an unexpectedly boyish grin.  He marches forward to fiddle with the droids a moment and then one droid moves to each end of the room.  Lord Malgus now beckons her forward to stand with him in between.  “They are set to a very low stun.  Nothing here will do more than just sting and bruise.  The droid on your end will only fire if you fail to hit it first.  And then, only a single shot.”

 

“And that one?” Eleena looks to the droid opposite him.  “What will it do?” she asks fearfully, recalling the full strength blaster bolts she had just seen.

 

The Master just shrugs.  “I’m not sure.  I set it to a random program, so I’ll see what I get.  All I know is that it is set to stun.”

 

“Oh.”  That’s reassuring . . . sort of.

 

“We will fight back to back.  You are laying cover fire for me, like you did on the cruiser.”

 

“But your sabers are not set to stun,” she sputters, remembering the deadly red blurs that slash and spin.  She doesn’t need to lose one of her lekku to his twirls.

 

“There is nothing to fear, Leena,” he assures her.  “As an Apprentice, my Master and I fought back to back.  If I could evade his sword while using mine, I can certainly avoid hurting you.”  She looks dubious and he must see.  “Will it make you more comfortable if I only use one sword this time?” he coaxes.

 

“Yes,” she fairly leaps at this offer.  And then before she can raise more objections, the droids activate and they begin.

 

And, oh dear, this is hard.  That droid moves fast.  Her first shot is a lucky shot but her next few shots miss and the droid pumps off a round.  Leena dodges the shot just barely and her head whips around to follow its path.  The Sith has his back to her and he is deflecting a barrage of attacks.  Still, he dips his saber fast to deflect the shot that had missed her sight unseen.  And now, it misses him too.  How is he aware of it?   Leena does not know.  It must be the Force.  But she has no time to speculate further because here comes another incoming shot. 

 

Leena reengages and gets down to work.  She does her best to ignore the whizzing buzz of the red saber that at a few points feels entirely too close.  And she forces herself to ignore the blaster shots that fly past her towards the Sith.  He will have to handle himself.   Leena is mostly holding her own, she thinks, until the droid fires a round that she misgauges entirely.  It slams into her arm holding the blaster, causing her to lose her grip on the gun.  As she scrambles down to retrieve it, another round catches her squarely in the chest, knocking off balance to the floor.  Her droid disengages now, having registered this as a full-on kill.

 

“Wow, that was . . . ??”  And what was that?  Eleena isn’t quite sure.  It was a rush.  It was fear mixed with adrenaline mixed with a strangely empowering feeling.  Not long ago, she was a slave working as a clerk in a warehouse.  And here she is shooting a blaster beside a full-fledged saber wielding Sith. 

 

Darth Malgus is smiling at her as he reaches down to offer her a hand up.  His giant palm clamps down on hers and he hauls her with a jerk to her feet.   “Not bad for a first try,” he appraises.  “Well done, accountant.  Well done.” 

 

“I could get better at that,” she decides.  “If I had more practice, that is.”

 

“Then let’s do this again some time.”  Again, this much feared man looks almost boyish flashing a rare grin.  “This was fun.”  He looks her over thoughtfully now.  “There is much anger in you, Leena.  I’m not even sure that you know it.  But we should let that out.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sith love to plot and Darth Malgus plots best at home at his station.  Here no one watches his landing pad and front door to see who comes and goes.  Here he has the ability to focus without distractions.  Well . . . there is that particular distraction.  But he’s keeping Leena at arms’ length until he can find something to do with her.  But settling her somewhere is not his first priority, especially since he’s finding that he likes having her around.  Something about that Twi’lek woman changes the energy in the room for the better. 

 

He’s been busy with the stream of officer candidates sneaking away from their current command posts to arrive for a covert interview at the station.  Now that the dust has settled, Malgus finds that he has only about ten of his old officers surviving.  These men were out on missions during the attack and most of them are young.   And so, to rebuild his legions from scratch Malgus is stealing away talent from his rivals, calling in favors long overdue, and in some cases outright asking other Sith for help.  So far, he’s getting mixed results.  It is frustrating to be in this position all from the lousy assassination attempt of a Mid Rim shipping company CEO in league with the enemy.   Malgus still feels embarrassed at his sudden reversal of fortune, but that is the ebb and tide of war, he knows.  And woe be to any of his rivals who are too quick to count him out.

 

Word has already gotten out about several high-profile defections to his new ship and now other Sith are suspicious and preemptively cracking down.  This whole set up for the Sith military is flawed in his estimation.  Having uber-competitive Dark Lords rule their own naval fiefdoms and jockey for position while ostensibly fighting on the same side makes no sense.  He shouldn’t have to steal officers from his peers, having his new men creep out with their footlockers in the middle of the night.  But that’s how it’s done for fear of reprisal.  For no one gets to leave a Sith without permission, whether you’re their lover or in their employ.  Dark priests of the Force are notoriously controlling like that. 

 

As a result, his space station is quickly filling up.  His refugee officers are in residence until the cruiser launches out of planetary dock in a few weeks.  In the meantime, having his new command structure here streamlines things a bit.  Even now, his military brain trust is hard at work downstairs.  But he has retreated here to plot. 

 

The uppermost floor of his station is strictly his alone, a sort of a private retreat.  This portion of his station is one large room, like some Coruscant loft apartment in space.  It is a bedroom, living room, office, and meditation chamber combined.  Malgus likes to keep the lights dimmed so it is lit mostly by starlight.  He can sit here for hours looking out from his observatory post, drifting in the Force while he reviews his current schemes and envisions new ones. 

 

If he looks out the panoramic windows he sees deep space stretching into oblivion.  But if he looks down, he sees the main portion of the station below.  Directly below him, with its own set of windows open to the starlight is the arboretum.   Well, in truth, it is more of a glorified dog run than a garden.  But it is a necessary patch of green space on his otherwise cold, durasteel satellite.  Malgus is having his new cruiser fitted with a similar indoor garden.  Sure, his ship will be teaming with people, but he wants to feel other life forms in the Force as well.  For life creates the Force, and makes it grow.  Be it a tree, a dog, or a person.   There is a unique signature to it all and a sort of harmony from its intermingling.

 

Leena is downstairs again in the arboretum, he sees.  The blue fabric of her dress peeks through the canopy of foliage as she walks towards the open lawn.  This is her habit most evenings after dinner, he has noticed.  She smuggles the hounds some table scraps.  Simus and Ragnos know to expect this by now and so they come bounding over to beg.  Malgus watches a moment from high above as Leena coaxes each pet to sit patiently to receive their treat.  Then one of the dogs retrieves a ball to drop at her feet.  Leena tosses it far and the pair are off at top speed for a competitive game of fetch.  She did this for almost a full hour last night, he remembers.  Throwing the ball again and again.

 

He watches a minute more before he decides to take a break.   Malgus is downstairs quickly via his own private lift.  That means the next time the ball is retrieved for Leena to toss, he intercepts it mid-throw with the Force.  It gets everyone’s attention. 

 

“Good evening, my lord.”

 

“Leena.”

 

And now, it’s his turn to throw.  Simus and Ragnos go barreling after their prize at top speed as he walks up to stand next to Leena.  If she’s surprised or concerned about his interruption, she doesn’t show it.  Instead, she starts talking in that easy, confiding way of hers.

 

“We had a stray dog we fed at the warehouse,” she tells him.  “He was sort of a guard dog.  He looked pretty scary but he was actually quite gentle.  With those he liked, Fritz was far more bark than bite.”

 

“I wondered why you weren’t afraid of the hounds,” Malgus remarks.  “Most people are.”

 

She looks away.  “It’s people I’m afraid of,” she says quietly.  “Not dogs.”

 

Simus comes back the winner with the ball between his teeth.  Malgus gives it another heave and the hounds race for it yet again.  “You’re not afraid of me,” he observes.

 

“Oh, yes, I am,” she retorts.

 

And he doesn’t need the Force to tell him that statement is false.  “Liar,” he accuses lightly.

 

“Well, I should be.  Shouldn’t I?”  She looks to him.  “I mean, you’re a Sith Lord, you’ve got the Force, and I have seen some of what you can do.  I should definitely be afraid of you.”

 

“Most people are,” he agrees somewhat proudly.   

 

“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands lately.  I think I’ve read everything there is to read about you on the holonet.  And that’s a lot,” Leena tells him.  “You’re famous, Lord Malgus.”

 

Yes, he knows.  “Only half of it is true,” he admits.  “The holonet is mostly the Republic’s side of the story.”  And, actually, the Republic grants him far more glory than his Sith brethren do.   He sounds much more fearsome in his enemy’s estimation than among his own kind.  It’s galling.

 

“Even if it’s only half true, you’re still a pretty scary guy.”  

 

Is she flirting?  If Eleena were a Sith lady, this would count for flirting.  Malgus nods and looks her in the eye to flirt back.  “I am a Dark Lord of the Sith,” he intones.  Scary is his thing. 

 

“I’m still not sure I understand what that really means,” Eleena confesses.  “I’m a fish out of water here in the Empire,” she shrugs and smiles sheepishly. 

 

“It means I am warrior of the Shadow Side of the Force, part of a proud tradition millennia old.  We are the future, Leena.  One day, the Sith will rule the galaxy.   We will bring peace and order to all peoples.” 

 

“Through conquest?”

 

“If necessary, yes.  We Sith pride ourselves on being ruthless.  We do what must be done.  We do not hesitate and we show no mercy.  Our ends always justify our means.  Power matters foremost to the Sith.” 

 

She nods.  “Yes, that’s basically what I’ve read.” 

 

“And that wasn’t enough to scare you?” he goads her.  “Because I know you’re not scared of me.”  The Force betrays her emotions and fleeting glimpses of her thoughts.  Leena is not scared of him.  Quite the contrary, actually.  She likes him.  Rather a lot. 

 

It’s more than gratitude, he thinks.   Leena likes him for himself.  Not for what he can do for her.  Not for his influence.  Not for his power.  Quite simply, it’s not very Sith.  And that makes sense since she’s from the Republic.

 

Leena gives a little shrug now.  “In the almost three weeks that I have known you, you have only ever treated me kindly.   And twice you have saved me.  Even though I’m just a slave . . .”  

 

He gives the ball another toss and turns to her.  “Don’t forget that you attempted to save me.”  He steps closer and now he’s a little in her space.  Is she going to back up?  She doesn’t.  She just looks up, searching his eyes.  She looks so pretty with her blue-green eyes gazing back at him with trust.  And all that satiny blue skin on her face and neck looks very soft to the touch.  Malgus’ eyes wander involuntarily to her lips but he stops himself.  

 

“Everyone here on the station adores you.  You know that, right?” she tells him.  “It says something about a man when his servants genuinely like him.  I should know.  I’ve been a slave all my life.”

 

“You are not a slave any longer.  You are a free woman.  Jose has the lawyers arranging for full Sith citizenship papers for you.”

 

“Really?”

 

Her surprise makes him smile.  “Yes.”

 

“Oh.”  Does this woman have any idea how alluring she is?  He thinks not.  And that lack of artifice and posturing might be part of her charm.  There is something very honest about Eleena Daru.   

 

“Lord Malgus,” she begins haltingly.   “I don’t know what to say . . . “  When she pauses, he steps closer still to hear her stammer out, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not used to being treated so well.” 

 

He nods and reaches a hand to her cheek, cupping it and raising her face to his.  She’s looking up at him like he is her hero.  And that’s when he throws caution to the wind.  He didn’t go looking for this unlikely attraction, but it is real.  He can’t deny it any longer.   And now, in a rare moment of undisciplined weakness, he’s going to take a foolish risk.   “Get used to it,” Malgus warns as his lips descend on hers.

 

Her mouth is stiff and a little resistant under his.  Could it be that this pretty accountant has never been kissed?  She doesn’t seem to be responding, but maybe that’s because she is new to this.  “I won’t hurt you,” he assures her as his lips trace a path down her jaw.  He has one hand up to stroke her lekku.  He’ll just get her going and then take her upstairs, he decides impulsively.

 

“I . . . I . . .” she sputters.

 

“Shhhh . . .” he hushes her now.

 

But she pulls back abruptly.  Leena is trembling, he sees, but she finds her voice.  It is dull and calm with a terrible tone of resignation.  “I won’t fight you.  I never fight,” she preemptively backs down.  And as he processes what she is telling him, Leena whispers aloud miserably, “I knew you were too good to be true . . . ”  

 

This reaction suddenly makes this moment feel sordid.  Like he is compelling her.  Abusing her.  And that’s not what he wants.  “Leena—”

 

And then, it gets worse.  “I know how to please a man,” she assures him.  She’s blinking rapidly as her blue cheeks flame red.  “I learned young what men like.”  It’s said with a matter of fact eagerness to please that makes him inwardly cringe.

 

Malgus is taken aback.  Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this.  He’s feeling stung to be lumped into the company of whatever thugs have coerced her before.  Malgus stares down into her lovely face, wondering for the first time what troubles this woman has seen.  She looks so afraid.  She wasn’t afraid of him before, but she is now.  And that is not what he wants. 

 

And damn!  What is he doing??  This woman is a slave who is so far beneath him that he ought not be giving her a second look, let alone kissing her.   She’s clearly been exploited in the past and she fears that he is looking to exploit her some more.  And is that what he’s really doing?   He isn’t sure.  For some reason, he feels very drawn to Leena.  To her keen mind, her easygoing manner, and her quiet dignity.  Hell, his dogs even like her and they don’t like anyone.  But she could never be more than a passing dalliance for him.  He’s not looking to keep a woman, especially if he ends up taking on Serevin’s daughter as wife. 

 

He’s a Sith, so usually he has no qualms about pressing his advantage.  He can take whatever he wants. This woman is only free at his whim and even free, she’s part of his household and his to command.  But Malgus likes his women to be enthusiastic volunteers, just like how he wants his crew.  Because you can’t command loyalty and fear only motivates so far.  Besides, he has no wish to entertain a frigid martyr in his bed.  So he releases Leena and steps back. 

 

Relief floods her face. 

 

And maybe that should anger him, but it does not.  More than anything, he feels compassion for her.  Just like when he had seen her lying stunned with a blaster face down on the floor of Barrabas’ home.  And that had been before he had known anything about her.  Before she had charmed first his wolfhounds and now him.

 

“Leena,” he tells her quietly.  “I am not like your other masters or other men you have known.  I never want to take what you don’t want to give.”

 

He may be Sith but he doesn’t want to dominate this woman who has been dominated by lesser men before him.  He’d rather empower her.  For despite her lifetime of servitude, Leena hasn’t fully accepted her plight.  He has seen glimpses of her independence flash up here and there.  Whether it was evading Barrabas’ punch or refusing his own order to shoot, there is a strong will beneath her averted eyes and ducked chin.  And tonight makes Darth Malgus want to coax it out, if only to see what happens. 

 

Ragnos is back with the ball in his jaws, pressing it hopefully into his hand.  Malgus takes the ball and hands it to Leena.  She lobs it without looking and the dogs take off once again.  And now, she nods and looks away.  The moment is gone. 

 

“Good night, Leena,” he tells her.

 

“Good night, my lord,” she responds nervously, giving him yet another fearful look. 

 

He decides he hates that look.  He ignores it and stalks off to plot some more, cursing himself for his folly.  He has enough problems now.  He doesn’t need woman problems too.

 


	9. Chapter 9

It is past the week that she was instructed to do this, but Eleena is in the training room again shooting a blaster for target practice. This just feels good. In fact, she slides her finger over and adjusts the weapon from stun to kill. Because after that strange interaction with Darth Malgus last night, she feels like leaving a few scorch marks of her own on the wall. Again and again, she fires round after round. It’s cheap therapy for her very unsettled mind. 

It had been a big letdown to discover that the impressive Sith Lord is just like the other men who have pressured her for sex. Sure, Darth Malgus might save her on a whim, free her from slavery, buy her a pretty dress, and feed her. And, yeah, he might call a cool space station home and have two friendly dogs she likes. But beneath all that impressive battle armor and that elegant, flowing cape, and behind that rare, disarming smile and those crinkly eyes, he is still a man like any other man. He might have the Force and a lot of credits, but he’s still a creep. And Eleena knows all about creeps.

Working in the Barrabas Logistics freight warehouse meant working around a lot of men. They were mostly the transitory types: spacers who haul cargo port to port. Human or not, they are all the same. The obnoxious swagger, the gritty language, the looking-for-a-fight attitude. Spacers are one of the more hyper-male subcultures and Eleena learned fast to keep her distance. Far too many of them arrived looking for a shower and a hot meal and some female companionship, willing or not. Guys like that know how to pick their victims—they know to pick someone who can’t fight back. And whereas she is tall and strong and not a girl who is easily muscled behind the crates, she is also a slave. That makes her an especially attractive target because there is no recourse. Her supervisor certainly wouldn’t help since he himself was one of the worst creeps of all. Every few months after a fight with his wife, he would wander in and lock the door and unzip his pants. 

It was all so weirdly impersonal, and in some ways that kind of helped. Eleena could be anyone for these men, she just happened to be the one that day. And it didn’t happen all of the time. Usually, it was every few months when she would find herself cornered and alone. You learn coping skills when life presents you with these situations again and again. If you don’t want to get hurt, you play along. And once the situation would become clear, Eleena usually opted to fall to her knees. For the best strategy was always to get it over with quickly with the least intrusion on her person. She doubted some of these guys even understood that what they were doing was wrong. More than a few probably thought she was a willing participant. And that was a double-edged sword, because it meant that next time they were in port they would be back. 

It’s just sex. That’s certainly what the men told themselves and it’s what Eleena told herself too. Except that the men would go home to wives and girlfriends with willing open arms where sex was intimacy and love too. Not so for her. Eleena spent long nights alone.

She’s not sure why, but it was completely deflating to see that even Darth Malgus is the same. He might have a protective sense of noblesse oblige for his household and the loyalty of his crew, but he too had looked to the slave woman for the easy lay. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised, but she is. The Sith had seemed so different from any man she has ever known. He carries himself like a prince because, of course, he basically is one. Surely, he can have any woman given all his wealth and power. But he too had reached for the conveniently available Twi’lek forced by circumstance to live in his house. And, damn, if that hadn’t killed her hero worship of him fast. 

The blaster she’s firing has grown hot in her hands even though Eleena is wearing a pair of shooting gloves. But she’s not done yet, she decides. She wants to blow off more steam. So she positions new targets and begins again. Eleena has spent her whole adult life keeping quiet, keeping things in, coping with all sorts of crap because of who she is. And so, the new targets on the wall become the face of every person who ever hurt her, of every man who ever abused her, and of her last master who hit her and then shot her down. Yes, this feels good. Very good.

Eleena is concentrating so intently that she misses the fact that she now has an audience. It’s one of the officers in residence at the station. She doesn’t know his name, of course. They are all so interchangeable in their neat uniforms with rank insignias she hasn’t yet learned to make out. 

“That’s some good shooting,” the man observes affably.

“Thank you,” she responds automatically.

The man looks her over now. Does he notice that she is sporting lip gloss today? Her housemaid roommate had given it to her, telling Eleena that the color would suit her better. It’s the first cosmetic she has ever owned. Eleena had painted her lips carefully, wondering over their strange sticky feel. But it had made her feel decadently glamorous so she had reapplied it again before marching down here to shoot a gun. She’s wearing her fancy blue dress and her lip gloss and positioned in the fighting stance she has been taught as she pumps off round after round. This is basically the most expensive, most pretty, most powerful she has ever felt. And it should feel great except she feels so disappointed about Darth Malgus.

“I’ve seen you around. You’re not part of the regular household staff, are you?”

“No.” She does not elaborate. Eleena doesn’t want to encourage this guy or any guy. 

The man keeps chatting as he pulls out his own sidearm and starts firing alongside her. “With a man of Malgus’ reputation, I expected more aliens around. But you’re the only one I’ve seen.” 

“I am the only one.”

“So you’re the woman he saved off his ship, huh? The only other survivor, right?”

Has that information gotten around? Apparently, so. “Yes,” she confirms in a clipped tone. Again, she focuses on her shooting. 

“What’s your name?”

“Eleena Daru.” Emphasis on the ‘E’ that Lord Malgus won’t pronounce. He says her name like a nickname. Like a pet name for someone you care about. 

“You’re not military,” the man observes the obvious. 

“No. I am an accountant.” 

“Yeah?” he sounds unconvinced and intrigued. 

Ten minutes later, Eleena is done. The blaster’s plasma bolt cartridge is spent. That’s how many rounds she has fired. She walks over to strip off her gloves and to clean the gun before replacing it in its case. Eleena is preparing to leave when the friendly officer holsters his sidearm and offers, “I’ll walk out with you.” She doesn’t really want the company, but she doesn’t refuse. They exit the training room together and head for the elevator. 

The officer keeps up his one-sided conversation as Eleena mostly participates in monosyllables. The elevator they are on stops now to admit new passengers and Lord Malgus and Jose step in. They are deep in conversation. The officer standing behind her pops to attention and salutes, but Eleena just looks down. This feels awkward, very awkward even though all they shared was a brief kiss. Her head dips lower still. 

“You have been practicing?” Malgus turns to address her. “Is that what you were up to downstairs?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“She ran a blaster out of charge, Sir,” the eager-to-please officer volunteers. “This one here sure can shoot.”

Malgus looks amused. “I have a very lethal accountant, Major. If you are impressed by what she can do with a gun, you should see what she can do with a spreadsheet.” 

“Very impressive for a slave,” the officer commends her again. 

And how had that come up? Maybe he just assumed it because she’s a Twi’lek. People have all sorts of unconscious biases that way. But it pisses her off. “I am not a slave,” Eleena grinds out testily. Not any more, she’s not.

“You heard the lady,” Malgus observes. “Good thing she doesn’t have a weapon on her now.”

“Former slave,” the man amends. “I meant no offense, my lord. I saw the scar on her neck.”

Of course, he did. He is standing behind her. Eleena reaches up self-consciously to her neck. Then the door opens and it’s her floor. She quickly steps out. 

Several days later, the scene repeats only this time there is no awkward overly friendly officer around. It’s just her alone coming back from shooting practice when Lord Malgus and Jose step on the elevator.

Jose nods hello as the Sith asks, “No table scraps for the hounds tonight?”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” She had lost track of time shooting again. “I missed dinner, I think.” Well, no matter. She’ll scrounge in the kitchen for some leftovers. With this many people at the station, the kitchen staff has been cooking for a crowd and there is always extra. “I’m sure there’s something I can take them,” she decides. “But you’re right that they will be expecting a treat.”

“Yes. You haven’t once missed a night.” 

And how did Lord Malgus know that? She looks to him sharply. But he has turned back to Jose. 

“Where would I find Lieutenant Commander Gotto?” he asks his makeshift aide-de-camp. 

“He’s probably dining with the rest of the men,” Jose suggests. “After dinner, usually it’s war stories and drinks, Master.”

“Good,” the Sith decrees. “Having a crowd to witness would be ideal. Come, Eleena,” he bids her. “We have one last thing to do and then you can have dinner with us. Neither you nor the dogs will go hungry tonight.”

Eleena looks to Jose who covertly signals an emphatic ‘yes’ and she dutifully follows as they exit the elevator. Their trio heads for the large conference room that functions as a dining room for the crew members in residence. As the Sith stalks in unannounced, the men all come to their feet. Malgus, of course, ignores this. His attention is all for one man. The Sith raises his hand and a short, stocky fellow across the room begins to choke.

“Lieutenant Commander Gotto,” Malgus intones. “I do not tolerate spies in my midst. You were a fool to think that you would not be found out.”

The accused man’s eyes are bulging as he paws uselessly at his throat. Eleena and the rest of the room look on in repulsed fascination.

“Who put you up to this?” the Sith demands.

The man gurgles and gasps. But he doesn’t attempt to speak.

“Very well.” Malgus lowers his hand, lights his sword, and steps forward. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

Now the still choking man starts heaving out a name fast. “A-A-dr-a-a-as-s-s . . . Adraaaas,“ he hisses and then half-slumps.

“Of course, Darth Adraas.” The Sith looks disgusted. He releases the man who now falls face forward onto the table. “Your cooperation has earned you a clean death,” the Sith decides. Then he stalks forward to strike the unfortunate man’s head from his neck. 

Like everyone else in the silent room, Eleena flinches but can’t look away. But she definitely doesn’t want dinner now. Maybe not ever. A little too late, she squeezes her eyes shut to block out the sight.

Malgus looks sort of annoyed by it all. “Jose??” he impatiently gestures to the body. Apparently, this is one more thing that the manservant will have to handle today. “Send him to Adraas with my compliments,” the Sith sneers. Then he orders, “Come, Leena,” as he sweeps from the room. 

“I think perhaps I will just visit the dogs—” she stammers but she dutifully follows, throwing a last involuntary look over her shoulder at the grisly mess.

“Nonsense,” Malgus decrees. “I was hoping to find you today. And Jose will be along to join us soon.”

So Eleena follows him to the actual dining room where the cook impatiently awaits. The cook is a graying woman in late middle age with a perpetually dirty apron, ruddy cheeks, and a no-nonsense demeanor. “Where is Jose?” she demands of the Master without preamble. “It will get cold if he doesn’t show up soon.” Before the Master can answer, the woman keeps talking. “Good. Eleena is here,” she approves. For this woman’s very worst fear is that someone might accidentally skip a meal. “We missed her earlier,” the cook’s tone is one of stern reproof. 

“Jose will be along shortly. He is attending to something. We will have one less mouth to feed, I’m afraid,” the Sith flashes an ugly smirk.

“Yes?” the cook raises an eyebrow knowingly. “Was it a spy, my lord?” she asks with unexpected ghoulish enthusiasm.

“Regrettably so.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then you can have dessert,” the bloodthirsty cook announces. As between herself and the Master, the cook clearly thinks she is the one in charge. And, strangely enough, Darth Malgus seems to meekly accept this. “I made your favorite cookies.” And wait—Sith Lords eat cookies? Eleena blinks. “Before you leave, young lady, I have a plate of scraps in the back for the dogs,” the cook informs her. Even Darth Malgus’ hounds are forbidden to miss a meal, it seems.

Eleena herself has no appetite. She mostly pushes her food around her plate while fighting the urge to squirm under Darth Malgus’ steady gaze. He has asked her all the perfunctory, easy questions about her day, the dogs, and her shooting skills. She answers in the manner of a report. Normally, she wouldn’t be this standoffish but this feels weird without Jose here as planned. After that kiss, Eleena doesn’t really want to have dinner alone with the Sith.

And thinking of Jose reminds her of the reason why he isn’t here yet. “How did you know that man was a spy?” she asks Lord Malgus.

“I read his mind.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes. But not as a matter of course. Peoples’ thoughts betray them and then I know to go looking.”

“Oh.” And that just begs the question, “What do my thoughts betray to you?”

He meets her eyes squarely. “That you are now very uncomfortable around me.”

“O-Oh . . .” He’s right.

“Have I ruined things, Leena?” he probes gently.

“No, Sir,” she quickly answers back.

“Yes,” he gives her a measuring look. “I see that I have.”

Eleena gulps. Desperate to change the topic, she now asks, “Darth Adraas was the man on Lord Angral’s ship, right? The man who pulled his sword when we arrived?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Why does he send men to spy on you?”

Malgus hesitates, as if gauging how much to answer. Then, he shrugs. “Power. It was about power.”

“So that man tonight died for power?“

“Many people die for power in one way or another. That is the way of things in life. Power matters a lot,” Lord Malgus tells her as he twirls his knife absently through his fingers. Somehow, this man manages to appear deadly even fiddling with a kitchen utensil in his hand. “It is a subject endlessly analyzed and debated by the Sith. You might say that power our favorite obsession. And we Sith have lots of obsessions. We are very focused like that,” he tells her without a trace of irony. Because focused seems to be an understatement. This man is more workaholic than anything. 

“Both my masters were obsessed with credits. We were taught to worry a lot about the bottom line. But you don’t seem to care much about credits,” she observes.

“Credits only matter in that they reflect power and sometimes they can buy you power. But like everything else, credits are a means to an end,” Malgus explains his perspective.

“So says the man with lots of credits,” she counters softly. She’s noticed that people who don’t care about money inevitably have more money than most. “You forget that I saw your financial statements.”

“You probably paid them far more heed than I ever have,” he smirks. “All those credits are useless to me when rebuilding my powerbase. If I could get away with buying good officers, I would. But I can’t. So I have to plot and maneuver for them. It will take time, but I will regain my standing. I will have every bit of power that I once had and then some. In time, I will take my rightful place on the Dark Council. Who knows?” He leans forward in his chair, “Maybe one day, the Sith will call me Emperor.”

Is he teasing? He might be. She’s not sure. “You aim high.” So high it almost sounds like treason, Eleena thinks.

“What’s the point in aiming low?” he retorts rather pointedly. “I want all of it,” he tells her, and his eyes flash yellow as if to underscore his intent. “All of the power and all of the glory.” And is this just boasting? Eleena can’t tell if he really means these grandiose claims. After all, lots of men talk big.

Malgus takes a sip of his drink and settles back now to muse a bit. “Power can be hard to measure, but you know it when you see it. It can be boldly asserted at times and then in other circumstances it can be a very subtle thing. Usually, it is in relation to something or someone.” He waves a hand expansively as he begins to elaborate. “I have power over my men and over my household. I decide what happens here. I have power relative to other Sith. I outrank many but I also answer to some. Generally, my power extends just far enough until another Sith pushes back.” 

“Is that what you did tonight when you killed that man? You were pushing back?” Eleena wants to understand.

He flashes a sly look and nods. “You’re catching on.”

“I’m a slave, Lord Malgus,” she reminds him. “I know all about power.” He sees power from the top, but she sees it from the bottom. And that’s a very different vantage point.

“Then teach me what you know,” he invites. 

Eleena thinks a moment. “You don’t have to use power to have it.”

“Correct. That is the nature of deterrence. You only need to make a showy example every now and then.”

“Like tonight when you killed that man.”

“Precisely,” he purrs. “What else?”

“Power can come from status. It is powerful just to be human, whether you are in the Republic or among the Sith. Your species matters.”

“In my culture, it is most powerful to be a pureblood Sith,” he nods. 

“Whatever the culture, it is least powerful to be a slave,” she informs him. “And it doesn’t help things to be Twi’lek and be female too. Even if you’re not a slave, it’s like having two strikes against you. Many people will assume that you are a slave or that your value as a person is primarily how you look or whatever holonet fantasy you can fulfill for them in bed.” She can’t help but hear the bitterness in her voice. And, really, this is awkward territory for her to discuss after last night.

“The beauty of Twi’lek women is known across the galaxy,” Malgus counters, sounding very much like a man. “That beauty has power.”

She disagrees. “If beauty has power over some men in some situations, it is not enough. And beauty is fleeting, Lord Malgus. I suppose . . . “ she hedges her bold words now and looks away. “I personally wouldn’t know . . . “

“You are beautiful,” he tells her. And is he being a creep again? Eleena looks up with alarm and catches his eye. Lord Malgus repeats himself now as he holds her gaze. “You are beautiful. I wish you could see that.”

She doesn’t see that. “I’m not beautiful. And besides, I’d rather be powerful.”

“I can help with that.” His dark eyes flash yellow at her again. How this man covets power. The very mention of it sets him off. He gives her a thoughtful look. “What if I told you that your beauty gave you power over me?”

She scoffs at this absurdity. “I would know that for a lie.”

“Why?”

She sighs and wishes they could get off this uncomfortable topic. Eleena grumbles, “I am not beautiful. I am not even that young anymore. I’m almost thirty-seven.”

“You don’t have to be young to be beautiful. And besides, you’re younger than me and I don’t consider myself old. Not yet, at least.” The Sith settles back in his chair to survey her slowly. And now his brow furrows and his eyes narrow. He is critical. “You don’t see it when you look in the mirror, do you? Your eye is looking for flaws and your standards are someone else’s. That is a pity, I think.”

“I’m a realist. I am too old, too fat, and too homely for beauty.” And do they have to keep talking about this? It’s not her favorite topic. Besides, there is far more to a woman than what she looks like.

“You have exquisite skin, do you know that? When you blush, you have purple roses in your cheeks. Myself, I have always been partial to blue--”

“Green skinned Twi’leks are usually preferred,” she shrugs.

“Not by me. And your shape is lovely. Very feminine. Such a contrast to the leanness of a male.”

“I am heavy and I always have been heavy.”

“Stop putting yourself down.”

“What? It’s the truth,” she grumbles stubbornly.

He leans forward in his chair opposite hers. “Leena, if I put my hands on you, you would feel lush and abundant, I expect.” And his phrasing it that way makes her blush. He’s staring at her now with eyes that drill into her own. Yes, he’s definitely being creepy now. 

Eleena is alarmed but trying not to show it. She swallows hard as she looks down. Darth Malgus is safely across the table, she reminds herself, and Jose is on his way. She’s in no danger. Well, just the usual danger with a Sith around. These men are very, very dangerous as demonstrated earlier tonight with the spy.

“There are those purple roses in your cheeks again,” he tells her with a flash of his smile. “You blush like a little girl.”

“I’m not a child, I’m a grown woman,” she retorts, feeling annoyed.

“Oh, trust me, I know. We can agree to disagree about your beauty. I will consider you modest, you can consider me wrong. Let us talk instead about the other night.”

Oh, yikes! Do they have to? Eleena immediately looks down again. When is Jose going to show up and end all this uncomfortable personal talk?

“Leena, look at me.” She does. Lord Malgus’ voice is quiet but firm. “I do not abuse or coerce those in my household or under my command.”

“I know that,” she whispers.

“I will never abuse or coerce you either. Do you know that, too?”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” she breathes out her relief at this awkward but reassuring plain speaking.

But for some reason, he glowers at this response. Is he angry at her? At the situation? Eleena can’t tell. 

He continues now: “I do not know what is in your background and I do not wish to know the details of your pain. But you should leave the past behind. Take all that has happened and claim it for your own. No one can hurt you unless you let them.”

She shakes her head because she knows this to be untrue. But Lord Malgus keeps talking. “You have seen how some of my peers treat me. I have a thick skin, but still I use their scorn to my advantage. You should do the same. Hold your head high and resist the temptation to believe the negatives. That’s what a Sith would do,” he encourages her. “We channel our emotions into power in the Force. And so, every slight, every hurt, every pain, makes us Darker. More powerful.”

She’s confused how any of this applies to her “But I don’t have the Force.”

“You don’t need the Force to own who you are. You are an intelligent, capable, beautiful woman. And with some more practice, you will be a crack shot with a blaster. You will be starting a new life soon, so start it differently. Start it with confidence. You are about to take control of your life.”

This is a strange sort of pep talk. “Why are you doing this? Why are you saying all this to me?” she wonders aloud.

“Because I like you.” He leans forward in his seat again as if to confide, “I understand you better than you know. For I too refuse to be only what people expect. In the end, I will transcend the limitations others seek to put on me. And while you are here, I will help you to do the same.”

“You want it all . . . “ She remembers his earlier words.

“Yes, and so should you.”

And, really, that’s a ridiculous statement for a slave. “So . . . I’m some sort of project? Is that what you want from me?” She is still so confused. Last night, she thought he wanted her to go to bed with him. Tonight, he seems to have something very different in mind.

“You have much potential. We Sith know potential when we see it.”

“I’m a slave—”

“Not any more. You are a free woman who will soon be choosing your own destiny. When things settle down around here, Jose will find you a position and a new home.”

That is what Lord Malgus has promised all along, but it keeps getting put off. She is not a priority, Eleena knows.

“There is much fear in you,” the Sith observes in another one of his strange remarks. “We should change that. Because when you are on your own, I don’t want you just to survive. I want you to thrive.” 

“O-Okay. But how?”

“I have something for you. Two things, actually.” Malgus reaches into his voluminous black robe and pulls out a snub nosed blaster. It’s in a complicated strappy holster of some sort. He puts it on the table and pushes it across. “Eleena,” he says her name correctly for perhaps the first time. “You are safe aboard this station. No one will victimize you like before. But I want you to feel safe. So . . . here.” He gestures to the gun.

“A blaster?” She accepts the small weapon and turns it over in her hand.

“That’s a shin holster. Strap it to the inside of your leg and wear it under your dress. You have my permission to shoot any man who bothers you. Grab the gun, point it under their chin, and fire. Don’t set to stun.”

“O-Okay . . . ”

“When you pull a weapon on someone, you need to use it,” he instructs. “Real life isn’t like the holonet when you brandish a blaster and talk someone down. If you are threatened enough to reach for deadly force, you should use it. Remember that. Always shoot first,” counsels the Sith.

He pulls something else out now. Is that what she thinks it is? It is. Eleena’s eyes light up as Lord Malgus unfolds a leather and metal headband. In the middle, it features a large focal-point stone. The headband is designed to strap around her forehead and ear bumps and fasten at the nape of her neck. 

“Ooooh,” the word escapes her lips. 

He smiles at this reaction. “This is for you,” he says as he pushes it too across the table.

The blaster pistol is instantly forgotten as she reaches for the headband. She’s never seen anything so elegant. Eleena runs her fingers gently over the dark blue stone. 

“It’s a kyber crystal,” he tells her. “That’s the type of crystal that powers my sword. Kyber crystals are specially attuned to the Force. I took this one off a Jedi I killed.” In a fluid movement, Darth Malgus is up and crossing the room to stand at her side. “May I?” he asks permission and she quickly nods yes. Gently, he fashions the headband across her brow as she smooths it over her ears. He ties it firmly in the back. “Wear this, Leena, and the Force will be with you . . . always.”

But the Force is not this headband’s real pragmatic appeal. “It hides the scar from the collar. Doesn't it?” she breathes out hopefully as she reaches back to be sure. “The medic droid who dug out the collar told me it would fade away in time.” But for now, the scar is still red, she knows. 

“Yes, it hides the scar.” Malgus retakes his seat. “It will fade. All of it will fade away if you let it. It is the past.” 

And then Jose walks in and the conversation migrates to less personal topics. 

After dinner concludes, Eleena spends a few minutes with the dogs. Then she heads for her room. When she walks in, the housemaid she bunks with notices the headband immediately. “Oh, that’s beautiful, Eleena.” She jumps up from the bed she is resting on to take a better look. “Where did you get that?”

“The Master gave it to me,” Eleena admits with a flush.

The housemaid’s reaction is first to blink and then to nod thoughtfully. She averts her eyes. “I won’t ask what you did to get that.”

Eleena bristles at the insinuation even if it is said without malice. She glares. “How could you think such a thing?”

“So you’re not sleeping with him?” the housemaid stammers out artlessly.

“No! How could you even think that?” Eleena demands hotly.

“Well . . . it’s so clear that he likes you . . . and he gave you jewelry . . . ” Her new friend looks chastised and chagrined. She backs down quickly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. In all the time I’ve been here, Lord Malgus has never had a woman. And, of course, you deserve some form of reward.” And now the housemaid is embarrassed too. “We are all very grateful for your part in helping the Master. If he had died, I don’t know what would become of us. He doesn’t have an Apprentice, after all . . .” 

That’s how things usually work in the world of the Sith, Eleena has learned. Wealth, connections, even servants, pass from the Master to his son. And if there is no son, then to his designated Apprentice. But in the case of Lord Malgus, there is no one. 

Eleena reaches up to touch the headband. It doesn’t feel quite so special now. “That’s what everyone is going to think, right?” she says miserably as she reaches to take it off. “That I’m his whore—"

“No, don’t,” her friend stops her. “It’s so pretty. You ought to wear it, especially if it’s a gift.” The housemaid considers the headband moment and decides, “You know it makes you look a lot more human.” And this is meant as a compliment, Eleena knows. Human is good, after all. Even if you’re not a human, you’re supposed to want to look like one. The housemaid smiles and it’s clear she’s trying to make amends. “It’s kind of like your lekku are just long hair pushed back. And it makes your ear bumps look less weird too.”

“Yeah . . .” Eleena fingers the pretty trinket. “I guess . . .” She wonders what the housemaid would think if she knew Eleena has a blaster from the Master hidden under her dress.

“Do you still have that lip gloss? Let’s see how it looks altogether,” her friend suggests. Eleena grabs the lip gloss and the housemaid carefully paints it on. “Yes, that looks good,” she approves of her work. “Go look in the mirror, Eleena.”

She does. And even she can see that it all looks rather nice. Better than nice. Eleena turns her head now to see it all in profile as she adjusts the drape of her lekku. The curve of her cheek, the wet sparkle on her lips, the eye-catching headband that mimics a crown. Wow . . . is this really her?

Her friend is suitably impressed. But yet again, it comes out all wrong. “Eleena, you look so pretty. Pretty enough to belong to a Hutt.” 

Eleena just nods and wonders about the Sith who tonight declared her more than pretty. He had actually called her beautiful.


	10. Chapter 10

Sith training always begins with breaking down the Apprentice.  Then, with discovery of knowledge through the Force and self-discovery of inner strength through suffering, a man is refashioned to be born again a Sith.  That is why the tradition is to take a new name as you begin your new life on the Dark Side.  Because once you emerge from the training, you are forever changed in ways that matter, with a soul forged strong and valiant through Darkness.   

 

The trial period when an Apprentice experiences physical pain, powerlessness, and self-doubt is critical and cannot be skipped.  For it fuels the lust for power that is the essence of a Dark Lord of the Force.  Pain is power, as the old Sith saying goes.  Spare the rod and spoil the Sith is, unfortunately, true.  And it is a real concern these days, Malgus knows.  The Emperor himself has been quoted more than once as saying that his Empire has grown soft.  That his Dark Lords are not all that they could be because they are aristocrats who live too well.  There is a complacency that comes with being at the top of the heap.

 

That is not Darth Maglus’ concern, however.  For his own struggle for respect is very real.  And since he has never had an Apprentice, there is not anyone who he is responsible to groom through adversity.  His lack of a protégé is part lack of interest, part lack of time, and part lack of opportunity.  But more than once lately, Malgus has wondered if the time has come to teach the ways of the Dark Force to a surrogate son.  It’s a pity Eleena Daru does not have the Force, he thinks.  For she is already well positioned to channel the Dark Side.  The preliminary work has already been done by others long before him.  Just being born a slave, Malgus thinks, is angst enough to make for an excellent Sith.

 

But it’s just as well.  As a general rule, women make poor Sith.  There have been a few to earn the full warrior title, but most have never made it past the rank of assassin or inquisitor.   The rest end up as sorceresses of the Force.  And while those are all worthy outcomes, they are not the same as being a Dark Lord.  Sith women are better at microaggressions than at the violent dominance displayed by Sith men.  And their social nature makes them tend to form cliques and factions rather than to compete outright head to head.  Women can be just as deadly—maybe even more so—than men.  But they tend to do it on a smaller scale, with far more personal involvement.  That’s why a Dark lady is more apt to kill her romantic rival or her child’s tormentor than she is to subdue an entire world.  And that won’t win the galaxy for the Sith in the end.  Men, quite simply, know better how to think big. 

 

Darth Malgus is a Sith who gets the whole vision thing.  He’s out to conquer the galaxy like a true Dark overlord.  But still, he has been spending way too much mental energy lately puzzling over his accidental Twi’lek ward. 

 

He worries that Leena will never make it on her own.  That her years of servitude and abuse have ruined her.  She is perfectly capable and clearly more intelligent than most.  But she lacks confidence and that is a vital part of success.  Confidence comes from setting goals and achieving them, something not applicable to the life of a slave.  And it comes from making decisions and seeing them through, something she likely has had no opportunity to do.  Plus, she has no family to act as a support system and no friends to be a safety net.  Eleena Daru is quite literally on her own . . . except for him.  It’s partly what keeps delaying Malgus from ordering Jose to launch her off.

 

He also worries that in his most recent confrontation with Adraas, he had played it all wrong.  He should have ignored Leena completely rather than claimed her under his protection.  What was he thinking championing her?  It will only make Leena a target.  Men who will not dare strike at him overtly might instead strike at her.  For these are the petty games of his peers.  They indulge in skirmishes with plausible deniability here and there:  the suspicious speeder accident, the poisoned pet, the villa that burns down in the night.   Other men with powerful family connections through their birthright and marriage can keep those sorts of cowardly attacks at bay.  Because the right whisper from the right person in the right ear can devastate a Sith’s career.  But Malgus doesn’t have family connections to serve as a deterrent or to marshal to his defense.  He only has himself.  And, until his new ship is up and running, that’s about it.  As a result, he has been in no hurry to throw Leena to the mercy of his enemies.

 

These are the official justifications for keeping Leena around that Malgus spouts to Jose.  But the truth is that he recognizes a version of himself in this slave woman’s plight.  Darth Malgus is a Sith, so he’s not much for empathy.  But he is a sucker for revenge.  And he wants revenge for Eleena Daru.  But with Barrabas dead, the best revenge is making her more than she has been told she could be.  Malgus is hoping that if he gives Leena a taste of power, then she will reach for more.  And that’s why he has invited her to hone her skills at violence.    He handed a pistol to a woman who by law has been forbidden to fight back.  And since then, she’s been spending hours at a time in his training room.  There is a simmering rage in her, he senses, for he has felt it in the Force.  It’s buried deep and hidden under her respectfully downcast eyes and quiet exterior.   Another man might overlook it, but not a Sith.  He sees it and recognizes it for what it is.  Malgus plans to nurture that anger and watch it bloom so that Eleena Daru will someday soon find her voice, claim her place, and hold her pretty blue chin high.

 

Yes, there is something so subversive, so Sith, about upending the ordinary course of things, Malgus thinks.   About taking everyone’s expectations and turning them on their head.  The cheeky, insolent part of him loves the story of the Republic slave girl who tried to save a Sith but in turn herself was saved.  Leena might be the lowest caste there is, but now she’s sporting a bejeweled headband that looks like a crown.  That the jewel came from a Jedi Master’s lightsaber and was gifted to her by a Sith is just the icing on the cake.  It’s too bad Eleena Daru doesn’t have the Force, Malgus thinks again, because he would make her his Apprentice in a heartbeat.  He would empower and train her in every way he knows how.  And then, they would fight together back to back and share all the glory the future will bring.  

 

But that’s not a real option, so he’s back feeling responsible for Leena and her predicament.  And he’s not sure what to do next.  He’s thought about keeping her on in his household, of course.  But as the days tick by and he finds himself daydreaming about her more and more, Malgus knows where that will inevitably lead.  And it’s a distraction he doesn’t need and also something she doesn’t seem to want.  But if he settles her somewhere, will she sink or will she swim?  Discovering a spy from Adraas on the station didn’t help matters much.  Because now Malgus is concerned what whispers about Leena might have been passed along.

 

But maybe he’s thinking about this all wrong.  The point is for Leena to be independent and assert herself.  So when they return to the station, Malgus plans to ask her what she wants to do.  But he plots to continue the empowerment campaign as well.  He turns now to Jose sitting next to him in the shuttle and quietly instructs, “I want you to get Leena something more appropriate to train in.  I don’t want to see that Barrabas Logistics jumpsuit again.”

 

It’s a complete non-sequitur from the topic at hand, but Jose is long accustomed to his habit of jumping from issue to issue without preamble.  Malgus’ mind is nimble and intuitive like that, but it clearly leaves the more linear-thinking Captain Ledbetter sitting across from him completely lost.  “Yes, Master,” Jose responds.  “Anything else for her, Master?”

 

And then Malgus remembers Leena bemoaning how everyone assumes that a Twi’lek woman must be a slave.  And she has a point there, for those stereotypes of sexy slave girls are likely foremost in everyone’s mind.  So, he adds to his instructions.  “Get her a few more dresses.  Make her look elegant and ladylike.  Like the furthest thing from some dancing girl chained to a Hutt.”

 

“Yes, Master.”  And is it his imagination, or did Jose just smother a grin?  Malgus chooses to ignore that expression. 

 

For his part, Captain Ledbetter just looks on in conspicuous silence.

 

Malgus now resumes the business at hand—reviewing technical schematics for his new ship.  This morning they are heading to the Taerab shipyards to personally inspect the dreadnought _Absolute_ that is finishing up a months long overhaul and retrofitting.  She was an old, decommissioned warship already undergoing reconditioning when she was awarded to Malgus.  Now the _Absolute_ is nearly new inside even if her old hull is battle scarred.    She might not look like much, but she has it where it counts, and that’s what matters most to Darth Malgus. 

 

Darth Angral, the commander of the Sith navy, meets them at the shipyards to inspect the newest addition to the Sith fleet.  Few men know more about starship weaponry and engines than Lord Angral.  His opinion carries great weight to Malgus.  Having already lost one ship, Malgus wants to ensure that he will not lose another.  And so, for several hours, the two Sith walk through all the new upgrades with the technical team and Captain Ledbetter. 

 

When that work is done, he and Angral walk apart together, wandering through the dreadnought’s empty hangar bay as they discuss the business of war.  Malgus is not a supporter of the upcoming invasion.  As usual, he is not shy about voicing his opinion. 

 

“These Rim skirmishes are pointless,” he grouses.  “Those worlds have no strategic value to the Republic and they get us no closer to the Core.”

 

Darth Angral agrees but shrugs.  “They are low hanging fruit.  It’s an easy victory.  Systems like that are never well defended.  The locals will be overrun in a matter of days.  It will be the usual slaughter,” Angral predicts.   “But it will give your new forces some experience fighting together,” he points out.

 

“Yes, there is that angle,” Malgus reluctantly admits.  His new troops could use this invasion mission purely as a combat training exercise.  But the larger issue is that the invasion itself is pointless.  It is a waste of resources and men with very little to be gained. 

 

Lord Angral now gives him one of his tolerant, indulgent looks that always means he’s about to condescend.  Sure enough, here it comes. “Malgus,” his sometime mentor sighs, “this war has been going on for years.  It will be going on for many more.  Your mistake is in thinking we will win it anytime soon.”

 

“I fight to win,” he growls back indignantly. 

 

“That’s the difference between you and the rest.  They fight just to fight.” 

 

And that is a bitter truth about the Sith.  Their violence is not as purpose driven as their rhetoric sounds.  They fight because they have always fought.  That’s what Sith do.  But there is far too much emphasis on rampant destruction and not enough focus on the ultimate goal.  When Darkness rises, Malgus thinks, it ought to be with cunning and stealth.   They should be surgically effective without gratuitous excess.  But that is not the case with the Empire currently.  There is a lot of hokey religious dogma behind the Sith’s penchant for sadism on a grand scale but Malgus dismisses it like he dismisses the Sith fetish for superstition.  That’s all a bunch of simple tricks and nonsense as far as he is concerned.  The path to true, lasting victory through Darkness will not come from rituals before a caldron conjuring warrior spirits of the past.   And it won’t come from leveling backwater worlds that no one cares about.  The future will be won by men whose ideas are as dominating as their swords and their Force.

 

Sadly, very few of his brethren fit that bill.  And that makes Malgus wonder whether the entire approach to understanding Darkness is wrong.  He privately worries that a Sith reformation may be needed before the galaxy will be won.  Because it’s hard to see how the Sith will win if things continue as is.  Likely, things will just grind to a stalemate and this hot war will turn cold as both sides hunker down and settle in. 

 

Complacency and stale ideas might just be a bigger enemy than the Republic, Malgus cynically thinks.  But he is one voice shouted down time and again by many others.  Being the tactician that he is, it has occurred to Malgus that permitting the Sith culture of infighting unchecked has its uses.  That all of this ineffectiveness might be by conscious design.  With the Dark Lords in conflict with one another, the Emperor effectively prevents a coalition to unseat him from forming.  Divide and conquer is an ancient strategy, after all.  But in this case, it is something more akin to divide and rule. 

 

Only among the members of the Dark Council does there seem to be much unity.  And those Sith have an annoying tendency to close rank and forestall any new ideas from taking hold.  Plus, they are gatekeepers to the Emperor.  Altogether, it’s a rather frustrating situation.  But that is an issue for another day.   Today, the issue is his ship.

 

As they finish pacing the length of the hangar bay, Darth Angral looks around and nods with approval.  “She’s a good ship.  Now that you put the time into overseeing her overhaul, she is good as new.  Maybe better than new in some respects.”  The Sith naval commander slants eyes Malgus’ direction, “There are those who will grumble that you have effectively been rewarded for the loss of your cruiser.”  

 

“No one wanted this ship,” he reminds Angral.   “She was spare parts for years.”  And that turned out to be fortuitous.  Because the scratch-and-dent _Absolute_ had been cannibalized to such an extent that all its major weapons systems and its hyperdrive had to be replaced rather than repaired.   As a result, the ship is state-of-the-art in all the ways that matter.   Superficial things like the design of the crew quarters and the layout of the bridge might harken back decades, but the guts of his ship are lightyears ahead of the rest of the Sith fleet. 

 

Angral knows it, too.  “Those engine and shield upgrades are going to be worth the wait,” he comments.

 

Malgus nods.  “I had the time to spare.  I’m still assembling my crew.”

 

“Have you got the list?” Malgus hands over his datapad open to the command roster.   His superior studies it intently for a minute.   “I’m impressed with how much you have accomplished.”  The older man raises an eyebrow and looks up.   “And I see that you’re poaching far and wide.   That will only add to your enemies list,” the Sith commander warns.

 

Malgus shrugs.  “It was a strategic choice.  I’d rather do that than take too many from any one Sith and risk some never-ending blood feud.”  When it comes to stealing away officers from his brethren, Malgus had opted to tick off a lot of Sith a little, rather than tick off a few Sith a lot.

 

“Yes, I suppose that is right,” Angral concedes.  “There was no good alternative in your situation.  And if you can seal a deal with Serevin, then a lot of this poaching may provoke nothing more than grumbling.  Most will decide that the loss of one or two key men is not worth the risk of crossing swords with you.”

 

Yes, that is his hope.  But things are not proceeding as well for his marriage as they are for his ship.   “Serevin hasn't responded since our meeting,” Malgus reveals.  He’s disappointed about that.

 

Darth Angral smirks at this opening.  “He has now.”  The older man reaches into his pocket to produce a datafile.  “Here.  I am Serevin’s emissary once again.  He has a counteroffer for you.”

 

Really?  This is a nice surprise.  Malgus eagerly reaches for the datafile.  “Good.”

 

Angral now hands back the datapad too.  “I noticed that there are some women on your crew list.   Have you had a change of heart where females are concerned?”

 

“Even Sith beggars can’t be choosers,” Malgus grouses.   “Those women were the best choices currently available.”

 

Angral chuckles.  “I would expect no less from the foremost champion of meritocracy among the Sith.   What’s next?” Angral goads.  “Will you be hiring aliens too?”

 

Malgus doesn’t respond.  Angral knows very well that he has made good use of alien mercenaries from time to time.  That practice has never sat well with his brethren who consider it a dishonor to fight side by side with soldiers paid to pursue the enemy.  But Malgus has found mercenaries to be a useful tool.   

 

The two Sith have traversed all the way to the airlock that will take them back to the main shipyards.  Angral takes one last good look around at the empty ship.  “New ship, new crew, new wife.  You’re a busy man these days.”

 

“Too busy to work on battle plans for the Core,” Malgus feels compelled to confess to his superior.  This is a sore point for him, but there are only so many hours in the day.  Even a Sith can only concentrate on so many things at once.

 

“Understandable,” Angral allows.  “But don’t wait too long.  If things start to turn around with this invasion, the Council will be less receptive.  You may lose your chance.”

 

Malgus makes a face. “These things cannot be rushed,” he grumbles.

 

“My lord,” Angral tells him, “I share your view that we need a bold, new strategy.  But that will be an uphill political battle.  We must choose our timing wisely.  The Council will need to be receptive to change.”

 

Malgus dutifully nods. 

 

“Add my secondary gunner to your crew list,” Angral decides.  “I saw that you’re still missing a gunner.”

 

It’s a generous offer.  Malgus wouldn’t dare poach from Angral.  But if Angral is offering, then he will gladly accept.  “Yes, my lord.”

 

Darth Angral claps him on the shoulder and leaves with some encouraging parting words.  “I have an audience with the Emperor next week.  I will tell him that you are rebounding fast.  You can’t keep a good man down.”

 

Three days later, Malgus returns to the station.  His command crew and his household staff are all lined up to receive him, as is customary when the Master returns.  And where is Leena?   She’s here somewhere.  He can feel her in the Force.   There she is.  She’s standing off to the side with his wolfhounds sitting flanking her.  And before Malgus can think better of it, he gives her a reflexive second look.  Eleena is wearing her regal headband and a new elegant ivory gown.  The dress is modest, like the blue one he is used to seeing, but far less plain.  She looks like some fairytale queen.  It instantly puts him in a better mood.

 

Malgus tears his eyes away to receive his formal greeting from his cook.  With Jose absent with him, his cook is the ranking member of the household.  And since this is her turf, she has apparently elbowed his surly looking military third-in-command out of the way.  Malgus flashes a rare ‘atta-girl’ grin at her before turning to Ledbetter’s assistant.  “Good call,” he tells the man under his breath as he snaps to attention to salute.  “Never make her angry if you want to eat.”  Then Malgus whistles and the hounds come running.

 

Leena, he sees, is hanging back.  No matter.  He knows where to find her and when.  Sure enough, not long after dinner she is in the arboretum amusing herself with the dogs.   Malgus walks up beside her.

 

“Nice dress,” he says lightly.  Up close, he sees that the ivory fabric is trimmed in pewter and gold.  It shimmers slightly in the light.  The fabric is fine and ever so slightly sheer.  In the bright artificial sunlight of the arboretum, he can see the faint silhouette of her blue skin beneath the dress.  It is a very subtle allure.  “You look like a princess,” he tells her impulsively.  And it’s true.

 

“Thank you.”  The ice-breaker compliment has the desired effect.  Malgus sees a faint smile twitch at her lips and then be suppressed.  She is blushing now.   Leena blushes a lot.  

 

“Lord Malgus, you need to stop giving me gifts,” she chides him.  “They are so beautiful and I love them but people will start to talk . . .” she explains awkwardly.

 

Whatever.  It’s not like they are sleeping together, so there’s nothing to talk about.  And besides, no one gets to tell Darth Malgus what to do in his own home.  “I want you to look like a princess,” he tells her.  “I want you to act like one and to demand that people treat you like one too.” 

 

“But I’m not a princess.  I’m just a freed sl—"

 

“You are not your circumstances,” Malgus overrides her firmly.  “Leena, I want you to recognize your self-worth.  If you don’t recognize it, no one else will.”   And is he berating her?  It sounds like he is berating her and that definitely won’t help.

 

Leena quickly changes the topic.  “Cook said that you were gone to inspect your new ship.”

 

“Yes, it’s nearly ready now.  Two weeks more at the max.  Then I will be off to war for long stretches at a time.”   When she makes no reply, Malgus speaks plainly now.  “What are we going to do with you, Leena?   You can’t stay here forever.”

 

“What are my options?” she asks him as he stoops to pet Ragnos behind the ears.

 

“Well, first you have to pick sides.  Sith or Republic?  What will it be?” 

 

“I d-don’t know.  Sith, I presume, since I’m technically a runaway slave.”  She looks anxious now.  “Mostly I’d like to avoid the war.”

 

Simus is nosing over, not one to tolerate being overlooked.  So, Malgus dutifully scratches his ears too. 

“A Sith world would be the safest,” he counsels, “so long as you stay away from Nar Shadaa with the Hutts.  Ziost would probably be the best choice.  It will never change hands to the Republic.  We could easily find you a job there and a place to live.”

 

“O-Okay.”  Yes, she is definitely anxious, he sees.

 

“We can do whatever you ask,” he offers easily.  “Just tell me what you want.”

 

And that proves to be the real issue.  “I guess I’m not really sure . . . ”

 

And does any woman know what she wants?  Malgus fights the urge to roll his eyes and tries another tactic.  “When you imagined freedom, what did it look like?”

 

“I never thought about it.”

 

He scoffs at this.  “We both know that’s a lie.”

 

And maybe not, for she explains, “I didn’t think about freedom in a real-life sense.  Those were always fantasies.  Freedom never seemed possible.”  She makes a face.  “I didn’t think about it in any practical way.”

 

“What were those fantasies?” he wants to know.

 

“It doesn’t matter—”

 

“Tell me,” he insists.

 

“Well,” she begins, “I would have a job somewhere and save enough money to buy my mother back from my old master.”

 

“The Muun banker?”

 

“Yes.  And then we would be together again.  My mother and I would be free together.  We were a family once more.”  Leena reddens now.  “I never thought about being free and being alone.  Freedom was a fantasy . . . like reuniting with my mother.”

 

He’s beginning to understand now just what a big step this is for her.  “You’ll like Ziost,” he reassures her.  “It’s the gateway to the Empire.  Its capital New Adasta is a major hub for trade.  Your skills will be in demand there.  Jose will make inquiries on your behalf and we will get you a position and an apartment.  You will have some credits and all the proper paperwork you need to be a citizen of the Empire.  Would you like that?”

 

“Yes.”  She says this because she thinks he expects it, he senses.  It’s not that she’s not grateful, it’s more that she’s scared. 

 

“You can’t stay here,” he repeats.  Especially since this marriage to Lord Serevin’s daughter might actually happen.  If his bride is like the rest of the Sith wives he knows, the first thing she will do is move in and redecorate.  And the second thing she will do is start reorganizing the household and the servants.  Meek and pretty Leena here won’t last a week.  And since Leena has no actual function here, it would be hard to disagree.

 

“Then, Ziost,” Leena decides.  She rallies and raises her chin.  “I will live a free life on Ziost.”

 

“It is settled,” Malgus tells her with a smile.  And part of him feels like he misses her already, so he offers, “Meet me tomorrow in the training room?  You did say you wanted to try combat again.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” she immediately accepts.

 

Satisfied, Malgus goes up to his quarters to meditate and review his plots.  But tonight his heart isn’t in it, so he pulls up the datafile from Lord Serevin instead.  It contains his counteroffer on the marriage negotiations as well as more details about his daughter, Lady Cassis.  Serevin’s daughter has admirable educational credentials and a noteworthy social profile that is described at great length.  Her list of friends and acquaintances is impressive, as is her teenaged service as a virgin Force priestess for the Emperor.   These days, the widowed Lady Cassis spends her days raising her twin sons, volunteering for seances at temple, and schmoozing on behalf of her family.   All in all, it is an exemplary life for a Sith lady:  family, the Force, and politics.   

 

Lady Cassis is not smiling in any of the pictures, but that sort of thing is generally frowned upon.  Looking friendly is not very Sith.  Still, Malgus decides that she is suitably alluring.  Lady Cassis has the ruddy skin of her ancestors and the sharp cheekbones and cheek tendrils too.  She has a lean, petite physique that gives her an elegant look.  Malgus swipes past picture after picture.  In each and every one, Serevin’s daughter appears as meticulously groomed and gowned as all the other women of her class.  At least on credentials and in pictures, there is no reason to find any fault with this bride. 

 

Malgus flips over to the genealogy.  The datafile includes a detailed family history going back ten generations, listing everything from midichlorian counts to Master and Apprentice relationships.  As the family history makes clear, this is an aristocratic clan with few standouts but a lot of yeomen Sith.  It’s more pedigree than true glory, but there is a lot here to admire.  And it is all the social respectability and political influence that Darth Malgus himself lacks.

 

Bored with midichlorian counts and Sith Academy rankings, Malgus goes back to the pictures of Lady Cassis.  She has that cold, aloof fancy lady appeal that is much admired among the Sith.  It’s the furthest thing from the blue skinned, sweet faced beauty who is still downstairs still playing with his dogs.  But he can learn to like it, Malgus decides.


	11. Chapter 11

Eleena is back in the training room with Lord Malgus for the third time in four days.   Why Lord Malgus doesn’t train with his actual troops, she doesn’t know.  But she is his de facto combat practice buddy now.  And she doesn’t mind.  It’s good exercise and it’s fun. 

 

“I am still sore from doing this yesterday,” Eleena admits sheepishly as she stretches a little before they begin.  She’s not used to all this physical exertion. 

 

The Sith looks over to flash that rare smile of his.  “Me too.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yes.  I’ve gotten soft,” he complains.  He looks a bit sheepish about it, too.  “These days, I fight less with my body and more with the Force.  I guess I’m lazy.”  

 

Eleena is quick to disagree. “You are the furthest thing from lazy, my lord.  Do you even stop to sleep?”

 

“Yes, I do.”  And even this sounds like an uncomfortable admission of weakness for him. “They say that Emperor Vitiate has trained himself not to sleep.  He goes for weeks on end awake,” Malgus reveals.

 

Eleena frowns.  Darth Malgus needs to cut himself some slack, she thinks.  “That sounds awful.  And so extreme.” 

 

“Extreme is very Sith.”

 

“I guess . . .” She sounds dubious.  “So . . . did you ever buy your real estate?” Eleena asks as she finishes checking her guns.  She’s using two blasters now for their combat sequences, though she is far more proficient with her right hand than her left.

 

“My what?”  Lord Malgus too is checking his weapons.  As he pulls on his gloves, he flexes his grip to warm up.

 

“You told the finance guys on Dromund Kaas that you needed to raise cash to invest in real estate,” Eleena reminds him.  Then she too pulls on a pair of gloves. 

 

“That was a lie.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I was attempting to be discreet.  If all goes well, I will need the cash for a marriage settlement,” he reveals.

 

Marriage settlement?  “You’re getting married?”  Eleena blinks at this unexpected news.

 

“Hopefully, yes.”

 

“Oh.”  Eleena is inexplicably deflated by his announcement. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend . . . ” she says awkwardly.  And that comes out all wrong.  Eleena blushes to the roots of her hair.

 

Malgus just laughs.  “Oh, I don’t.  That’s not how things are done.  Marriages are arranged in my culture.  Marriage is like everything else for the Sith—it’s strategic.  Think of it more like an alliance than a love match.”

 

“Oh.”  That sort of makes it better, Eleena thinks.  It means he wasn’t cheating when he had tried to kiss her.  But well . . . the Sith wouldn’t be the first man to be unfaithful.  And why is she so unsettled about this marriage news?  If all goes well, in days she’ll be starting a new life on Ziost.

 

“I’ll probably only meet my wife a few times before we marry,” Malgus adds with a shrug.  “That’s pretty typical for us.”

 

“Oh.  Of course.”  Arranged marriages are still common in many cultures throughout the galaxy, Eleena knows.  It’s hardly surprising or unprecedented for this to be the tradition of the Sith.

 

“I’m meeting my bride-to-be tonight actually,” Malgus now casually reveals.

 

Tonight??  “So this is why Cook is so stressed today?” Eleena wonders aloud.   No doubt she wants to impress the future mistress of the house.

 

“Probably.  Jose is fussing over this meeting too. You’d think he was the groom,” Malgus chuckles. “He thought he was being very subtle giving me hints on how to impress a woman.”

 

Eleena laughs. “What did he say?”  She’s dying to know.

 

“All sorts of romantic nonsense.  The real person I need to impress is her father.  He’s the decision maker.”

 

This all sounds very patriarchal and traditional.  His bride is probably some teenaged virgin, Eleena thinks.  A girl who is pure and untouched.  Not like her.  No doubt she has nothing in common with this sheltered Sith lady who will be Missus Malgus.  But she can’t help herself—Eleena asks, “What is she like?”

 

The Sith thinks a moment.  “Lady Cassis is from an old pureblood Sith family.  She and her family are well connected and well liked.   Everything that I am not,” Lord Malgus admits freely.  He must read Eleena’s unspoken follow-up question in her face because he explains further, “Their family is in need of finances.   That’s where I come in.”

 

“So she’s marrying you for your money?” 

 

“Yes, and I am marrying her for her family connections,” Malgus is straightforward about his goals in the deal.  “It’s a quid pro quo.”

 

“So there is no love in Sith marriages?”  Does that sound like a naive question?  It must, given Lord Malgus’ expression in response. 

 

Still, he answers her thoughtfully.  “There is loyalty and, in time, perhaps love.  Usually, there is a degree of affection and respect that develops.  But love is not the primary goal of marriage.  For the Sith, power matters most.   We Sith are fighters, not lovers.   Power is the path to glory and to happiness.”

 

“No, it’s not.”   Eleena objects before she can stop herself.  But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she regrets them.

 

Lord Malgus peers at her strangely.  His eyes narrow and his brow wrinkles.   And now Eleena can tell that she has definitely spoken out of turn.  The Sith raises an eyebrow and asks, “Is that so?”

 

Maybe she’s speaking heresy to a Sith, but Eleena speaks her mind all the same.  Lord Malgus seems to like that, she’s noticed.  So gamely, she defends her statement.  “My lord, you don’t have to be powerful to be happy.   I was happy as a child.  That was back when I had the love of my mother.”   Eleena now recalls wistfully those days. “We were slaves together.  We had no power, but we had love.”  She takes a deep breath and doubles down on her view.  “Trust me, love trumps power any day.”

 

“How would you know?” he counters softly.  “Leena, you have never had power.”

 

And two can play at this game, she thinks.  So, she challenges him outright.  “Does that mean that you have had love?”

 

“Romantic love is a fairytale for the impressionable,” he scoffs.  “Most Sith think it a justification for weakness or a form of indulgence.”

 

“So the Sith do not love at all?” she asks.  To Eleena, that sounds so bleak.

 

“Yes, we love.  We are a bit tribal in our loyalties, so familial love is encouraged.  But romantic love is considered unnecessary.  Maybe even silly.  It’s certainly not a basis for a marriage.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

He goes on.  “Passion is a source of power so the Sith tend to be a lusty lot.  But our commitments are made on more calculated grounds.  We plot with our heads and not with our hearts.”

 

“Oh.”  Yes, of course.  In his worldview, this all makes perfect sense. 

 

Malgus now summons four droids with the Force and then starts fiddling with them.  Does this mean that he will be taking on three droids at a time?  No, apparently not.  Two are for her.  And that has Eleena instantly alarmed.

 

“Two droids?   I’m not sure I’m up for that.”  She’s still getting the hang of firing two guns at once.

 

“You’ll be fine.”  Malgus ignores her objection.  “They are set to a low stun.” 

 

“Are yours?” she demands.

 

“Of course, not.  Where’s the fun in that?”  And now, Lord Malgus pulls out two swords instead of his usual one.

 

“Wait--two swords too?”  She never agreed to that.  Eleena looks to him fearfully.  Just having one sword flashing around her head makes her anxious.  Two swords seem very risky indeed.  “Does it have to be two?” she complains.

 

“It does.”  Again, Lord Malgus flashes her that disarming smile.  “Trust me.  I promise I won’t hurt you.”

 

She throws out her hip and lifts her chin.  “It’s not that I don’t trust your intentions, my lord.  It’s that I don’t trust the two swords and I’d like to keep my head.”

 

He smirks.  “Now when have I ever cut your head off, Leena?”

 

“Maybe today.”

 

“You are getting sassy,” he retorts.

 

Has she offended him?  Eleena instantly backs down.  She feels her face grow hot and she drops her eyes.   “I’m sorry, my lord, it’s just scary—“

 

“I like you sassy,” Malgus interrupts.  “Let’s get to work.”  He activates both droids and both swords and they begin. There is no more time for debate.  She is forced to focus and concentrate. 

 

Eleena is moving easier now that she’s not wearing the boxy flame retardant Barrabas Logistics jumpsuit.  She’s sporting a black t-shirt and black Sith military fatigue pants Jose brought her.  These clothes are so much cooler and more comfortable for this sort of thing. 

 

“Watch your left!” Malgus alerts her as a bolt slips past him.  The two droids behind her are spraying full strength blaster fire at him.  Every now and then, a shot slips by the Sith.  Once or twice in practice, he has literally pulled her to the ground with the Force to avoid injury.  And it’s moments like those that have Eleena a little spooked still.  But she is also growing more trusting and in awe of the Sith’s skill as well.  Somehow, he keeps track of the four droids firing, his two swords, her two blasters, and her body in relation to his.  This time, the random shot slips by without incident and Eleena keeps up her efforts.  She and Lord Malgus typically fight the droids back to back in ten-minute spurts.  By the end of that time period, Eleena is panting and sweating plenty.  The Sith, of course, barely seems winded at all. 

 

They are almost to the end of the exercise when a shot that the Sith has blocked ricochets off the far wall instead of being absorbed like usual.  Eleena sees it.  She leaps to the side and swivels to avoid it since she knows it is a live full-strength shot.  The blaster shot grazes across her midsection right above her waist.  Eleena gives a little shriek as the superheated plasma energy singes through her shirt. 

 

Instantly, Malgus waves a hand and all four droids immediately cease. 

 

“Owwww!” Oh, that hurts.  Eleena holsters her blasters and reflexively grabs at her side.  When she pulls her hand away, there is some blood.

 

“Are you okay?”  Lord Malgus whirls around and deactivates his swords.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” she says weakly, looking down at her bloody palm.  Then she presses back at the wound to stem the slight bleeding and to help with the pain.  Because yikes, this glancing flashburn hurts.  It really, really hurts.

 

“Let me see,” he orders, grabbing her hand away.    

 

“It doesn’t h-hurt much,” she hisses.   “But that does.”  She winces under his poking, prodding touch.   “Stop that!”

 

He ignores her.  “This needs a bacta patch for sure.  Leena, you’re done for today.”

 

Yes, she is.  “Cook keeps some bacta in the kitchen.  I saw her use it for a small burn last week. I’ll go get a patch from her.”

 

“Don’t bother her,” Malgus orders.  “She’ll probably chase you out of the kitchen today.  I have some upstairs.   They are bigger.  You need a patch that can wrap around your whole side.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Come with me.”

 

Wincing Eleena follows him upstairs to the main floors of the station and then into a small alcove with an elevator that she has never seen before.  It takes her to the uppermost level of the space station that she knows belongs to Darth Malgus alone.  Amid all the sprawling public spaces of his household, this is a private place reserved exclusively for the Sith. 

 

When the elevator door opens to admit them, Eleena momentarily forgets her stinging wound.  She reacts to the softly lit open concept apartment that is bordered on all sides by windows.  Her first impression is that it’s like floating in space.

 

“Wow . . . this place is amazing.”  Eleena turns to exchange a delighted smile with Lord Malgus now.  “And here I thought that the rest of the station was great.”

 

“Welcome to home sweet home,” he responds as he gestures expansively to his rambling lair.  And, it’s true.  This looks like a home.  Like someone actually lives here.  There is a combat boot sticking out from under a sofa and a towel laying on the floor.   Even some pieces of armor tossed onto a table near what must be a closet door.  Yes, it definitely looks like a bachelor Sith lives here.  There is no sign anywhere of a woman’s touch or the inveterate female urge to tidy things up.  The giant room is a living area, office, and bedroom combined, she sees.  It’s one large space to multitask and relax.  Sort of like a Sith mancave in space. 

 

“Silver,” Eleena breathes aloud as she looks at all the monochromatic soft furnishings that seem to glow.  “Silver.  Not black.”

 

“I like to keep it dim up here to help me focus in the Force,” he explains.  “I’d never find my couch if it were black.”   And it is dim in here.  The apartment is mostly lit by starlight streaming in through the windows and by the multiple glowing projection screens in the office area.  The office is easily the brightest thing in the room and so it immediately draws her attention.  Eleena recognizes several holonet newsfeeds playing on mute but the rest of the screens display data and videofeed that must be military in nature.  Positioned before the dozen or so screens is a big chair that has at least five datapads haphazardly strewn in the seat. 

 

Lord Malgus follows her eyes and discloses, “I use a lot of datapads.  I’m a Sith who likes to keep notes.  Information is only useful if you can recall it.”

 

And who can disagree with that?  “I can totally see you sitting there making your plans,” Eleena says softly.  “You could rule the Empire from here.” 

 

“Maybe someday I will,” he says, flashing that disarming smile.  “Sith love to plot, after all.”

 

He disappears into what must be a bathroom and she can hear him rummaging around.  While she waits, Eleena wanders over to the windows to look out.  The shape of the space station is such that the uppermost portion is the smallest with the middle portion ballooning out in a bell shape.  Looking down from this vantage point, Eleena sees the treetops of the arboretum many floors below. 

 

“Good, stand there in that moonbeam,” the Sith approves as he reemerges with medical supplies in his hands.  “That will give me the light I need.”  He tears into an antiseptic wipe.  “Well, come on.  Take that shirt off and let me see.”

 

“Er . . . okay.”  Eleena pulls her t-shirt over her head and stands before him in just her bra, her pants and her boots.  It’s nothing Lord Malgus hasn’t basically seen before, she rationalizes, since he once saw her in her tank top.  But this feels so much more bare.  Her breasts are almost spilling out of her faded old too tight bra.  Well, pretty much all of her is hanging out, what with her muffin top and all.  It’s a good thing that the lights are so dim.  Eleena can feel herself blushing bright red. 

 

“It caught you across the upper abs,” he says, bending closer to take a look as he dabs at the wound.  And does he have to do that?  It’s sort of humiliating to have her torso inspected up close.  Plus, he is bending at eye level with her chest.

 

“I can do that—” she offers.

 

He declines.  “Allow me.”

 

She frowns down at him, shifting her weight nervously as he probes his fingers around the rapidly blistering raw burn.  Luckily, the bleeding has stopped.  “Are your ribs hurting?  Sometimes a flashburn can crack a rib internally.”

 

“No.  My ribs are fine,” she says quickly, hoping he won’t notice how deeply he has to press to feel a rib.  Eleena has an hourglass figure but that doesn’t mean her middle is super trim.   Mostly, it means her bottom and top half are just extra large by comparison.  “I don’t have a six pack,” she says defensively as he keeps poking around.

 

Her comment makes him chuckle.  “That makes two of us.”   He’s finished with the antiseptic.  Now he tears open a rectangular bacta patch.  “Flash burns get worse as time goes on.  Sometimes they take a full day to ripen.   So leave this on for two days,” he instructs as he presses the sticky bandage firmly onto her skin.  “Try not to get it wet.  But I’ll give you another one just in case.”

 

“Okay.  Thanks.  That feels better already.”   The cool, sticky ooze of bacta instantly takes the sting out of the burn.

 

Next, Lord Malgus presses a tiny pill into her hand.  “Chew and swallow this.  It’s just a pain reliever.  It will take the edge off until the bacta starts to take effect.” 

 

“Thank you,” Eleena says as she quickly tosses it back.   “I’m sure it will be better soon.”

 

Darth Malgus is so close now.  In the dim light, his pale skin almost glows, giving him an otherworldly look.  Is he going to kiss her again?   This posture feels like he is going to kiss her.   And in the moment, she wants him to at least attempt.  She catches his eye and holds his gaze and yes he is going to . . . please go ahead and . . .

 

But he pulls back suddenly. 

 

“Jose has an apartment for you on Ziost,” Lord Malgus reveals.  He’s looking at her with a strange expression on his face.  “Jose has two job proposals already and he is waiting on a third.  Leena, I want you to interview with each firm and make the choice yourself.”

 

She’s actually going to get to choose a job?   This she had not anticipated.  “Thank you,” she tells him with utmost sincerity.  For how can she thank him enough for all he has done?  “Thank you, my lord.”  She’s searching his eyes with hers, willing him to understand how much his help means to her.  That he would do this all for a random slave girl who accidently tried to poison him has Eleena very touched. 

 

He steps closer now, she lifts her chin, and his lips are mere inches from hers.  Eleena is certain that Darth Malgus is going to kiss her now.  And certain also that she will let him do it.  His eyes wander down to her lips and hold there a long moment before they wander down to her overflowing bra.  Suddenly, Eleena is very aware that they are completely alone and the Sith’s bed is mere steps away.  But none of that matters because she is more than ready for his kiss and maybe more.  They stand like that for what feels like eternity before Lord Malgus again abruptly steps back.

Part of her is disappointed.  Part of her is relieved.  Part of her is annoyed.

“Don’t let this burn keep you from practicing,” he tells her as if nothing unusual had occurred.   “Small injuries like this are part of training.  By tomorrow, if all goes well you should be nearly healed.”

 

Okay . . . so it looks like they are both going to pretend that almost-kiss thing didn’t happen.  Eleena plays along.  “So does that mean we can train again tomorrow?” she asks hopefully.   And she’s not sure why she’s asking because she’s about to resume her life as an accountant very soon.  She won’t be firing off blasters then. 

 

“Yes,” Lord Malgus agrees as he turns away.  “We will train again tomorrow provided that you are sufficiently healed.”

 

Hours later, Eleena is showered and changed and in the arboretum with Rags and Simmy.  Dinner was an abbreviated affair tonight because all of Cook’s attention is on the honored guests who arrived this afternoon.   But overstressed and short tempered as she was, Cook had still made sure to set aside some scraps for the dogs.  Those yummy treats are long since eaten and the nightly game of fetch with the ball has run its course.  Eleena is now seated on the soft grass of the lawn with the hounds lounging at her side.  She is staring up at the inky blackness of deep space, puzzling over her strange interaction with Darth Malgus earlier today.  Her fingers creep up to press at the bacta patch now hidden under her dress.  The flashburn no longer hurts.  It must be healing fine. 

 

Eleena is about to leave when she hears voices.  It’s a man and a woman approaching with fast steps.   The dogs are instantly aware of the newcomers.  Eleena too turns around.  And lo and behold, here come Lord Malgus’ honored guests. 

 

So this is Lord Serevin and his daughter Cassis, Eleena surmises.  She and her housemaid roommate had taken peeks at the pair earlier when they had arrived in the hangar bay.  But seeing Lady Cassis at fifty meters away does not do her justice.  Plus, now the Sith lady has dispensed with her voluminous hooded travel cloak so Eleena can get a good look.  Wow . . . this woman is exotically beautiful without a doubt.  Eleena knows that she is staring, but it’s hard to look away. 

 

This is a woman grown and not a teenaged girl, though that maturity is mostly evident from her poise and not her skin.  Lady Cassis has a face out of one of those high fashion magazines on the holonet.  With chiseled cheekbones and strong brows.  It is the perfect match for her smooth red skin that is so luminous it seems to glow.  Lady Cassis has long, shiny black hair parted in the center and pulled back into a low chignon.  It is a severe style that shows off her dangling earrings and sharp profile.  She wears a long A-line black gown with a high neck and no sleeves.  The dress reveals her graceful sinewy arms that are as red as her face.  Down her right arm is a line of tiny black tattoos that starts at her shoulder and trails all the way down her hand to her middle fingertip.  Her left arm sports a thick cuff bracelet that matches her earrings and the large ring on her right hand.  Altogether, this highborn Sith lady is an impressive, expensive sight.  Just looking at her makes Eleena feel dumpy and inadequate. 

 

The father wears the hooded robe of a Sith Lord, much like Lord Malgus does too when at home.   Lord Serevin is as red faced as his daughter and just as attractive too.  With a square jawed handsomeness that seems to visually reinforce his patrician roots.  He has the same black hair as his beautiful daughter but he has red eyes unlike her dark ones.  Still, all in all, the family resemblance is striking.  Father and daughter make quite a pair.

 

Eleena isn’t the only one who is interested.  Rags and Simmy are too.  They bound over to greet the newcomers with their typical excitement. 

 

“Shoo!  Go away!  I can’t abide dogs,” Lady Cassis announces.  “Disgusting creatures,” she sniffs.  Then Eleena blinks as she sees the woman wave away the hounds with the Force.  At this unprecedented treatment, the dogs back down immediately.  Their ears are flattened and their eyes are wide.  They rush to Eleena’s side as she climbs to her feet.  Almost as if it is her job to protect them.

 

And is this her cue to leave?  Maybe she ought to slink away, but curious Eleena stands her ground.  She was here first after all.  It’s not like she is trying to eavesdrop on a private conversation.  They are the ones who walked in on her.

 

Father and daughter’s eyes flit over Eleena now as she stands with the cowering dogs.  But then they turn away to resume their conversation as before the interruption.  “Well, what do you think?” Lord Serevin solicits his daughter’s opinion.  And it’s like Eleena is not even here.  She recognizes this attitude immediately.  The way this haughty Sith pair speak in front of a servant like she is not in the room to hear.  This isn’t the first time Eleena has been treated like she is to be seen and not heard.  Still, it’s a bit surprising because tonight she is dressed in her headband, her lip gloss, and her fanciest dress.  Nothing about Eleena’s appearance betrays her slave background except her species, but apparently that’s enough.  Or maybe this Sith pair just consider everyone to be their natural inferior.

 

“He is just as dour and grumpy as everyone says.”  Clearly, Lady Cassis is not impressed with her groom.  “And how old is he, Father?”

 

“Forty-seven, I think.  Somewhere in his mid-forties.”

 

“He looks older.”

 

“He’s a fighting man, Cassis.  It’s a hard life.” 

 

The daughter looks around now and curls her lip.  “I hate this place.  It’s awful and so boring out here in space.  And does he always have all these troops around?  It’s like a barracks here.”

 

“Those are his most senior commanders, I believe.”

 

“Okay, so it’s an officers’ club,” Lady Cassis grumbles.  “Did you see them with their boots on the tables?  Like they own the place.  They seem very comfortable among their betters.  Father, why does he tolerate such disrespect?” 

 

“Malgus is known for his esprit d’corps.” 

 

“I could bring his house in town up to snuff but I can’t do anything with this place.  Father, I feel like I’m on one of his ships and not in a home.  I could never live here,” Lady Cassis complains. 

 

Her father pragmatically brushes this concern away.  “So have him buy you what you want.  He can certainly afford it.  Cassis, you can work the living arrangements out.”

 

“Well, I refuse to live here.  Put that in the settlement, Father,” she insists.  “I don’t want to argue about it.  And I suppose I will have to put up with those dogs.”  Her eyes fall again on Eleena standing with the hounds.  Lady Cassis frowns.  “Maybe I can get him to keep them on his ship along with all these officers.  Dirty, smelly things . . . “

 

“Malgus will be away to war mostly,” Lord Serevin reminds his daughter.  “You won’t be seeing much of him.”

 

“That’s a good thing,” the lady’s opinion is cutting.  And now she complains again.  “We would have nothing to talk about, Father.  The man has no affinity for art or culture.”  She looks around again with disdain.  “As far as I can tell, he only likes war, trees, and dogs.  Will you just look at all this wasted space?”

 

“Now there is your opening, Cassis.  You can introduce Malgus to the finer things in life.  And I’m sure he wouldn’t expect you to be here while he was gone.  You can stay in Kaas City and amuse yourself as you do now during his absences.” 

 

Lady Cassis looks unconvinced and she says so.  “Father, can’t we do better than him?”

 

“No,” Lord Serevin does not mince words.  “Malgus has the wealth we need and the prospects I want.  The Emperor thinks he is the best warrior Sith of his generation.  Do not underestimate him, my dear.” 

 

“It’s just that he is so unappealing on a personal level,” the woman replies, looking thoroughly miserable.    

 

“You will learn his good qualities, I’m sure,” her father inserts smoothly.  “I have no doubt that you can charm him in time.”  Then Serevin reminds her, “I let you choose your first husband.”

 

“Yes, I remember.  And I will do my duty this time around.  But does he have to be so big?  He looks like a rancor with that thick neck and big bald head.”  And that’s very uncharitable of her, Eleena decides as she suppresses a scowl.   Lord Malgus is a very attractive man.  Is this woman blind?   And, actually, Lord Malgus and Lady Cassis will make a handsome couple, Eleena thinks sourly to herself.  With him so tall, pale and forbidding, and her so petite, ruddy and proud.  Both in black.  Both so striking.  And each in their own way, so completely Sith. 

 

“He’s not ugly exactly, but he’s far from a handsome man.”

 

“Malgus looks like a warrior Sith.  They are not a pretty bunch.”  The father sounds increasingly exasperated now.  But he’s trying to be patient with his clearly much-indulged adult daughter.  “Cassis, be thankful he’s not covered in scars.  Some of these fighting Sith need their masks.  At least, he’s not missing any limbs.”

 

“That we know of,” she retorts.  The petulant lady now resumes her list of faults.  “Malgus is just so . . . disagreeable.  He could use some lessons on diplomacy.  It's like he says what he thinks when he thinks it.  The man has no filter for his views.”

 

“Actually, I believe we heard the filtered version of Darth Malgus tonight.”

 

Lady Cassis blinks with alarm.  “So, you’re telling me he’s usually worse, is that it?”

 

Lord Serevin puts it diplomatically.  “He is a plain-spoken man.”  He levels his daughter a pointed look.  “Everything anyone says about that man is true.  All of the good and all of the bad.  He’s a mixed bag, Cassis.  You knew that.”

 

“Yes, I suppose I did.”  The lady sighs loudly now.  “I thought this place would be crawling with aliens.  That, at least, exceeded my expectations.”  She looks across to Eleena.  “You there,” she calls over.  “Yes, you, the big blue woman.  Who else?  Come tell us who you are.”

 

Eleena approaches with trepidation but she forces herself to keep her head held high.  And, of course, Rags and Simmy dutifully trail in her wake.  “My name is Eleena Daru.”  She strives to say this in a low, cultured voice and not a nervous squeak.  But it comes out a bit too quiet.

 

“Who?”

 

She repeats herself louder this time.  “My name is Eleena Daru.”

 

Lady Cassis appraises her silently for a moment.  Obviously, it’s the first time she has given Eleena a good look.  She is very interested now.  “Who are you in this household?”

 

“I am the accountant,” Eleena answers truthfully.

 

The daughter frowns and the father shrugs.   “He is a very wealthy man.   Someone has to keep track of the funds.”  Lord Serevin is bored with this exchange and wants to get back to the topic at hand.  “Well, are you with me in this, Cassis?” he asks hopefully. “It would be rude to depart without giving our host some feedback.”

 

Lady Cassis looks resigned.  “Father, are you sure he's the best available?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Very well, then.  Tell him that I am agreeable.  Then say our goodbyes and let's get out of here.” 

 

Lord Serevin looks like he would like to say more, but thinks better of it.  He just nods approvingly at his daughter and then departs, presumably in search of Lord Malgus.

 

As soon as her father is gone, Lady Cassis turns back to Eleena.  Her dark eyed gaze is very cold.  “That's a kyber crystal on your headband,” she observes.

 

Eleena just nods.

 

“Where did you get it?” the Sith lady inquires.  “That’s not something you see every day.”

 

“It was a gift.”  Eleena is deliberately vague.

 

“From whom?” Lady Cassis presses.

 

And Eleena knows better than to lie to a woman with the Force.  “It was a gift from Lord Malgus.”

 

“Indeed?  And where did you get the dress?  That's very nice dress.” Lady Cassis’ tone is pure suspicion. 

 

Again, Eleena tells the truth.  “It came from Lord Malgus as well.”

 

“I see.”  Is it Eleena’s imagination or does Lady Cassis bristle at this news?  And why should she given how she feels about her groom?  “You're not really an accountant, are you?” Lady Cassis accuses.

 

“Yes, I am,” Eleena confirms.  “But I am leaving to take a new position very soon.”

 

“Good.  I would hate to have to dismiss you.”

 

Lord Serevin reenters now.  His conversation with Lord Malgus must have been very quick.   “Father,” Lady Cassis says, “Make sure this alien is in the settlement as well.  I refuse to live with Malgus' sex slave or whatever she is in my household.”

 

And now it’s Eleena’s turn to bristle.  She pulls herself up to her full height and raises her chin.  She’s not a slave anymore and even if she were, she is not this woman’s slave to be dismissed.  This haughty Sith lady is not Lady Malgus yet.  “I am not a slave,” Eleena announces with great dignity.  “I am a person and my name is Eleena Daru.”

 

Lord Serevin looks to his daughter.  Seeing her expression, he decides it is time to leave.  “The shuttle is waiting—”

 

“I suppose this is what he must like.”  Lady Cassis looks Eleena up and down with contempt.  “Father, there are limits to what I will do to promote this marriage.  I refuse to get fat just because he likes that sort of thing.”

 

“Cassis—”  Serevin speaks sharply.

 

“I mean it!   I really don't care how many fat alien concubines he keeps so long as I don't have to look at them.   Put that in the settlement too.”

 

Serevin looks back and forth between the two women and decides to take the middle ground.  “I will let you and Malgus resolve that between yourselves.”

 

“Father—"

 

“I will not let him disrespect you.  Cassis, I intend to drive a hard bargain for you.  Any man would be honored to call you wife.  But let us be going.”  Serevin shoots an impatient glance Eleena’s direction.  “I will not let you blow up this deal just because he has a woman on the side.  Now ignore her, and let’s move forward.  If need be, I will deal with issue this man to man.”

 

Mollified at least temporarily, Lady Cassis shoots Eleena a vicious look before she and her father depart.

 

Eleena watches them go.  She has mixed emotions about what has just transpired.  She’s annoyed because she was again assumed to be a slave and now accused of being Lord Malgus’ lover too.  Offended also by the insults about her appearance.  But at the same time, Eleena is worried that she may have inadvertently created problems for the man to whom she owes a great deal.  Lord Malgus is a complicated man.  He is many different things.  But more and more, Eleena is beginning to think of him as a friend.  And that makes her protective for the Sith, as ridiculous as that may seem.  All Eleena can think as Lady Cassis marches off is that she doesn’t deserve Lord Malgus at all.   But this is just one more example that life is not fair, as Eleena herself bitterly knows.  This bitchy Sith woman has it all and now she’s about to get even more.  The most irksome thing about it is that Lady Cassis doesn’t even seem to care. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Eleena Daru is fast becoming an infatuation.  How else can Malgus explain how preoccupied he is with that woman?   She’s on his mind at odd moments of the day and he finds himself inordinately interested in the arrangements Jose is making for her new life on Ziost.  And now their hour of combat training together has become the highlight of his day.  He’s been rearranging and even delaying meetings just to make sure he can fit that time into his schedule.  It’s all coming to an abrupt end in a few days and that has Malgus both relieved and anxious too.

 

He worries that this attraction makes him a pathetic, weak, and lonely man.  For how else can you explain a Sith lord who gets his head turned by a slave woman?  He’s no snob amid the hierarchical Sith, but even he has standards.  Still, Leena in her ugly coveralls had caught his eye from the very beginning.  Then circumstances had thrown them together and kept her around.  And now, they are something approaching friends.  And that in and of itself is a red flag.  For the Sith do not have friends.  They have allies and foes.  Because if you’re not with a Sith, you’re his enemy.  They are a culture of bright lines and absolutes.

 

It would be easier if this were a purely physical thing.  Then they could just have sex and move on.  But the appeal of Eleena Daru is far more than just how she looks.  Leena may be a slave but she is undeniably intelligent and capable.  She has an easygoing demeanor that balms his intensity and a smile that lights up her eyes.  And there is something almost nurturing about prodding this quiet, unassuming woman into becoming something more.  Like watching an ugly, crawling caterpillar morph into a beautiful, soaring butterfly.  Long ago, his Master Vindican taught him to recognize potential in situations and persons.  Potential is the essence of every plot, the then young Malgus was taught.  And that was good advice.  For the most wily Sith can see what others do not at first glance.  That’s what makes their machinations so subversive and effective all the same.  For to plot the unexpected is to beat other Sith at their own game. 

 

Maybe this relationship just means that he is overdue to take an Apprentice, Malgus muses.  If he is going to spend precious time on someone, it ought to be a person who can augment his own power.  He has never been interested in teaching before, but perhaps the time has come.  It’s too bad that Leena doesn’t have the Force.  For he would gladly take her on as pupil in a heartbeat.

 

But she doesn’t have the Force.  Leena doesn’t have much of anything, actually.  So why is this happening?  Is it the contrast between himself and her that is so appealing?  She is slave to his Dark lord, Republic to his Sith, and honestly wholesome compared to his sly craftiness.  Or maybe it’s that Leena is so different from the noblewomen of the Sith.  There is nothing contrived or controlling about her and she is the furthest thing from high-strung.  In almost every way, Eleena Daru stands in sharp contrast to Lady Cassis.  

 

So what does it say about him that he is marrying Serevin’s daughter but lusting after a slave?  Darth Malgus isn’t sure he wants to know.   The most convenient answer to believe is that it has been too long since he has had female companionship.    And this upcoming marriage ought to fix that.  Yes, that’s it.  He has starved his body for sex and now the first woman he sees becomes an obsession.  This is why he had forbidden women on his warship for so long.  This attraction is the inevitable result of fraternization among men and women.  And he himself is the one to fall prey this time around. 

 

Yesterday, he had been quite desperate to kiss her.  She had been standing half-dressed in his quarters with her blue skin bathed in starlight.   Still damp and sweaty from their exertion like she might be had they just gotten up from bed.  All that lovely blue flesh was exposed to her waist.  Her sweet face was turned up towards his.  Her full lips were inches away.  He had been tempted.  Very tempted.  But he had declined.  Once before he had tried to kiss her and her reaction had spoiled it all.  And, besides, she is about to leave his life for good so why ruin things?

 

Still, as Malgus walks into the training room ready to spar with the droids he’s already a bit wistful that  Leena is almost gone.  While that’s a good thing for her and for him, he wishes the end wasn’t coming quite so soon.

 

“How’s your side feeling?” he asks immediately.  He has been worried and wondering about this.

 

“Fine, thanks,” she tells him and the Force reveals this is the truth.  “I think it’s pretty much healed now.”

 

“Good,” he approves.  “Jose tells me that you are leaving us in two days.”  He says this as if he doesn’t know all the details of her new Ziost life.  The Sith are known for their obsessions, but being overly controlling has never been his hallmark per se.  Not until now, at least.  Something about this woman has gotten deep under his skin.

 

“I did the job interviews by hologram yesterday.”  Yes, he knows this too.

 

“So . . . have you decided which to accept?”

 

“Yes, I think so.  I’m going with the traditional accounting firm over the other two shipping companies.  It seems like more of a challenge because I will have a variety of work.”  Her eyes are bright and happy as she tells him, “They even do forensic accounting.  Old Barrabas was a cheat, so I know a lot about how to lie with numbers.  It would be nice to work on the honest side for once.” 

 

Malgus nods his agreement.  The Sith culture of patronage extends beyond just war to business too.  He is a wealthy man and his web of investments opens a lot of doors.  It was simple for Jose to find a few businesses that would leap at the chance to do a favor for Darth Malgus.  Even if this first position doesn’t last, he thinks, it will bolster Leena’s resume for the future.   If nothing else, this job will give her a good start.  Malgus feels he owes her this.

 

“Do you think that is a wise choice?” she asks, looking worried.  Leena clearly lacks confidence in her decision and that’s no surprise.

 

He tries to reassure her.  “Accountants are nothing you can’t handle if you can defeat my battle droids.  Just keep a cool head and stay focused.”

 

“Like a calculating Sith?” she teases.

 

“Exactly,” he grins back.  “Up for two droids again today?”

 

She shoots him a look.  “I should ask you.  No more missed shots that ricochet and hit me, okay?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he gives her a jaunty little salute.  Then he fires up the droids.  “Let’s do this.” 

 

They fall silent as they concentrate.  He doesn’t miss any shots and neither does she.  At the end of the  first ten minutes, he commends her sincerely.  “Well done.”

 

“What does the Force feel like?” she asks.  Suddenly, he’s stumped.  It’s a question Darth Malgus has never pondered before.  In his world, everyone who discusses the Force with him is Force-sensitive themselves.  And at this point in his career, the Force is effortless.  Second nature and more akin to a reflex than anything else.  And so, he struggles to find the words to explain.

 

“The Force makes everything in life more vivid, more intense.  As compared to others, I am hyperaware.  My senses are stronger than yours in every way.”  Or so he is told.  Like she has never experienced life with the Force, he has never experienced life without it. 

 

“Those senses are how you manage so much at once in combat,” she observes.

 

“Yes.  But the Force is more than just a tool in battle.  It is everywhere all around us.  It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the universe together.”

 

“I see.”

 

“No, not really,” he tells her honestly.  “You will never know what it’s like to feel this power.  It’s not something I can easily explain in words.  But it is amazing.  Truly amazing.”

 

She nods.  “I guess it’s natural that with that innate ability comes a certain arrogance . . . ”

 

“You think I’m arrogant?” he raises an eyebrow.

 

“Actually, I was thinking of someone else.” 

 

These words too ring true.  And while he’s not exactly humble, Malgus has never been one to treat non-Force users with contempt.  He has too much respect for the fighting men he relies on for that sort of attitude.  Many of his Sith brethren treat non-Force users akin to pesky children to be managed.  But Malgus knows that non-Force users are just different in their abilities and not always lesser beings as a whole.   For the Force doesn’t make you wise or convey good judgment, and it certainly doesn’t make you smart.  And, in Malgus’ estimate, dumb Force-users are entirely too common in the perpetually inbred families of the Sith.  Everyone has some talent and that talent is power waiting to be harnessed and used by him.  All for the greater glory of the Sith, of course.

 

After their next ten-minute session with the droids, Leena has another home question.  “Why don't you have an Apprentice?”

 

“Mostly because I’m too busy.”  And because none of the most talented Force-users at the Sith Academy want to be trained by Darth Malgus, the ultimate parvenu.

 

“You should take an Apprentice,” she decides.

 

“Do you think so?”

 

“Yes.   You are such a patient teacher.”  She shrugs and looks a bit sheepish.  “You deserve a better student than me.  Someone with the Force.”

 

“What if I told you that none will have a Sith Master so lowly as Darth Malgus the New?” he counters.   He’s curious what her answer will be.

 

She scoffs at this.  “Then, they are fools,” she passes immediate judgement.  “You’re not lowly, my lord.  Far from it.  I am the lowly one.  I’m the slave.”

 

“Not anymore,” he corrects her.  “But in the eyes of many, I might as well be you.” 

 

“Really?”  She’s skeptical.  “Even a man with your war record?”

 

“Yes.  We lowly types should stick together,” he chuckles.  “Come,” he activates the droids for another round.  “Let’s go again.”

 

Hours later, he is holed up in his office puzzling over how best to invade Coruscant.  But he keeps getting distracted by the sight of Leena many floors below playing with his dogs on the lawn.  He’ll be missing their training session tomorrow so he decides to go down to say goodbye.  Now is as good a time as any, he decides.

 

She looks over her shoulder at the sound of his footsteps.  “Oh, hi,” she calls out.  More and more in private, Leena drops the honorific ‘my lord.’  He’s fine with that.  Their training sessions have gone a long way to making her comfortable around him.  That awkwardness with the kiss appears to be firmly in the past.

 

“Good evening,” he bids her as he walks up and the dogs come running. 

 

“Taking a break?”   Leena knows that he spends his evenings plotting the war and meditating in the Force.

 

“Yes.”  He throws back his hood and sinks down to a crouch beside her to pet the dogs.   She’s wearing her blue dress tonight, he notices.  It looks so plain and serviceable compared to her newer finery.  Leena needs a man who will spoil her, he decides.  Someone who will celebrate her and make up for the neglect and deprivation of the past.    

 

“Will we be training tomorrow?”  She asks this hopefully.  It’s their last opportunity, he knows.  But he has meetings all day plus the final weapons test on the _Absolute_ at the shipyards.  That’s not something he can reschedule.  Plus, he’s already behind from where he hoped he would be by now. 

 

So, with regret, he shakes his head.  “There just isn't time. Tomorrow is jampacked.  I’m sorry.”  He means it. 

 

“Of course,” she agrees softly and he can hear the disappointment in her voice. 

 

And that’s what prompts him to impulsively suggest, “Come see me afterwards tomorrow night when I’m back?    Come tell me a proper goodbye, Leena.”

 

“Alright.” 

 

“Good.”  He frowns now as he notices, “Simus is limping.”

 

“Yes, I noticed that too.  I don’t think it’s anything serious.  He fell hard yesterday.”

 

“Chasing the ball?” 

 

She shakes her head.  “He scared your visitor.”  Malgus raises an eyebrow and Leena starts making excuses.  “You know how excited they get over new people.  And not everyone is a dog person . . . ”

 

He can hear the evasion loud and clear.  “What happened?”  She is reluctant to talk, and it makes him more curious.

 

“When Simmy ran up to the lady, she got spooked.  She tossed him with the Force.”

 

Yes, Malgus can imagine that happening.  Lady Cassis would not be one to welcome dog hair on her dress and slobber on her hands.  He calls the injured dog over.   “Come here, boy.  Let me see.”

 

Up comes the hound to his master.  Malgus gently inspects his paw.  “I think it’s okay.”

 

“That’s what I thought,” Leena concurs.  “I think it’s just sore.  We skipped playing ball tonight.  I wanted to give him a rest.”

 

He nods at this wisdom as he stands and observes, “These two are going to miss you terribly.”

 

“Oh, surely someone else will bring them snacks.”

 

He meets her eyes. “It’s not just the snacks and you know it.”  They exchange glances and both smile.

 

“I think maybe I will get a pet after I get settled on Ziost,” she muses.  “Though not a wolfhound.  Something smaller for my apartment.   That way I will have someone to come home to.”

 

“You’re worried, aren’t you?”  He can see the trepidation in her face.

 

“Yes, a little,” she freely admits.  “But excited too.  My adventure continues, I suppose . . . ”

 

“Adventure?”  He raises his eyebrows.

 

She gives a little laugh.   “Oh, my lord, nothing in life has been the same since I met you.”  And that’s an apt observation for both of them.  For the day they met changed everything for him too.  He lost his ship and was deeply embarrassed before the Dark Council and his peers.  Clawing back from that defeat might very well be the work of several years.   But it wasn't all bad that day.  He had met Eleena Daru too.

 

“So what do you think of Lady Cassis?” he asks casually.  He’s curious. 

 

“She doesn’t like the dogs.” 

 

“She’ll probably try to banish Ragnos and Simus to my ship.  And I can live with that.”  With Leena gone, he may need to take them onboard his ship.  They will be lonely to lose all this attention.  There is something very soothing about having Eleena Daru around.  Malgus senses it and the dogs sense it too.  The only place her anger and bitterness seem to come out is in their combat training.   He wonders a moment what will happen when Leena loses that outlet.  He hopes that she won’t turn that rage inward, as women can tend to do.  Pain always finds a way to express itself, as every Sith knows.  Malgus wants her to channel it outward towards others to manage it in a healthy way.

 

“The dogs would probably enjoy being on the ship,” she decides.  “But I don’t know about your crew.”

 

“The crew will do as they are told,” he grunts.  “What else?” he prompts her.  He really does want to know what she thinks about his bride.   “Tell me what you think of Lady Cassis.”

 

“She is very beautiful.”

 

“Yes, I suppose so.”   Serevin’s daughter is perfectly presentable and beautiful in a conventional sense.   But there is no spark of chemistry between them.   No natural attraction.  It will take time and effort, he thinks, for him and Lady Cassis to develop a rapport.  He had been hoping for a better first meeting, but a little initial standoffishness probably is not unusual in an arranged marriage.  Still . . . the lady didn’t seem overly concerned with pleasing him.  Mostly, she was aloof.

 

“I’m sure she will make a very good wife . . . and . . . a powerful ally,” Eleena says diplomatically.   She’s choosing her words slowly and carefully and attempting to tell him what he wants to hear.  And now Malgus is certain that whatever interaction occurred between Leena and Lady Cassis, it wasn’t good.

 

“You don't like her,” he accuses.

 

Eleena is instantly defensive.  “I don’t know her.”  She looks away.  “And it’s not like my opinion matters anyway.”

 

“It matters to me.  Come on,” he cajoles.  “Tell me what you really think.”

 

“Oh, no.”  She throws up her hands and literally takes a step back.  “I know better than to get in the middle of husband and wife.”

 

That clinches it.  Eleena hates her.  And now, Malgus is dying to know the truth. “We’re not married yet.  Come on, tell me.”   He steps closer now, looking down into her bright eyes.    “You can be honest with me.  Tell me what you really think.”

 

Her brow comes down and she looks away.  After a moment, Leena softly responds.  “I think she doesn’t deserve you.”

 

Something about the way she says this touches him.  Her face is averted but he can tell she is blushing.  Blushing in a way that the self-assured beauty Lady Cassis has never blushed in her life.  Maybe that is Eleena’s true attraction—she is an outsider to the demanding, competitive, high stakes culture of the Sith.  Time with her feels like a respite of sorts.

 

“Leena—“  He reaches for her arm.

 

She half turns. “Yes?”

 

“Leena, I . . . I . . .”   He what?  It’s so unlike him to be unsure of himself.  But as non-threatening as this woman is, she rocks him on his heels in little ways time and again.  He hopes it doesn’t show.   “Leena—"

 

“Yes?” she blinks up at him.

 

He wants to kiss her.   Should he ask permission?  After last time, he feels like he should ask permission.  But, Hell, he is a Sith and he can take whatever he wants.   Besides, he’s not known for his social graces.  And anyway, he shouldn’t be doing this even if she says yes.  But Darth Malgus has never been a man to play it safe and do the politic thing.  So, he pulls her closer as he dives for her mouth in a swoop. 

 

This time Leena is not passive to his attentions.  Her lips are eager beneath his.  Yes, she wants this.  She is twining her arms around his neck and arching against him to meet his roaming hands.  In seconds, they wander up from her waist to find those luscious breasts of hers.  Just as he suspected, they are a handful and more.  And Darth Malgus has very large hands.  Oh, Gods, this woman has a figure.  It might not be fashionable, but it’s absolutely to his taste.  

 

She moans low in her throat and he takes that opportunity to further deepen the kiss.  Malgus could drown in this woman’s mouth and die a happy Sith.  His hands snake lower now as he pulls her closer still.  Then they drop below to find more of her curves.  This is glorious, he thinks, as he presses her flaring hips against his.  What a fool he was to wait so long to do this.

 

She needs to stop him.  If she doesn’t stop him now, Malgus will soon have her naked in his bed upstairs.  Or maybe here on the lawn with the dogs looking on.   But perhaps she feels like she can’t stop him.   Because he is who he is.  Because she owes her future to him.  Because she is seduced by a Sith who’s got the Force and the threat of a sword hanging at his hip. 

 

He should be the one to stop things then.  But she feels so good in his arms, with her dangling lekku that brush against the back of his hands.  His fingers sink into her backside and again she utters a moan.  Her unintelligible near growl is the sexiest thing Darth Malgus has ever heard.  Yes, if this doesn’t stop now, he won’t be able to stop.  Beneath his cloak he’s rock hard.  It’s been far too long since he has slept with a woman and his body is ready to go right now. 

 

Suddenly, he wrenches free.  He’s panting now and so is she.  She looks up to him in confusion.  “Don’t,” he anticipates her apology and cuts her off.  Because of course Leena will volunteer to take the blame for this.  “This was my mistake.”  And, wait, that came out wrong.

 

But she instantly defers.  “Yes, of course.”  Leena always defers.  A lifetime of servitude has left its mark.  And he hates it.  He absolutely hates it. 

 

“I should go.”  He needs to go before he thinks better of this uncharacteristic selflessness and whisks her off to bed. 

 

“Yes, of course,” she automatically agrees again.

 

“Find me tomorrow night?”

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

“I mean it.”   This isn’t goodbye.  Not yet.  “Look at me, Leena.  I mean it.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”


	13. Chapter 13

Change happens without warning and once it happens, it tends to continue.  For change begets change.   Sometimes things spiral downward and sometimes good things bring more opportunities.  But usually, change is a bit of a mixed bag.  Eleena has had more change in the past six weeks than she ever thought possible.  And as unexpected and scary as it has all been, on the whole the changes have been very good.  Until now.  Now comes the hard part. 

 

Freedom and a new life with a new job and a place to call her own all seem so exciting.  Truly, this is a dream come true.  But these new beginnings also signal an end to her temporary life at the space station.  That is daunting for many reasons.  Not the least of which is that she will be leaving the enigmatic Lord Malgus behind. 

 

He is a man who is brutal to his enemies, whether they are Republic troopers on the attack or a Sith spy uncovered in his own home.  But he is fair and almost protective of his household and his crew.   This disparity is not a contradiction, for Eleena has come to see that Lord Serevin’s overheard observation is true:   Lord Malgus is everything that is said about him--all the good and all the bad.  And that explains why he is feared and hated by some, and revered and beloved by others.   Both views are legitimate based on your personal experience and point of view.

 

He is a wealthy elite Dark lord and yet an outsider among his brethren.  An ambitious man with a chip on his shoulder and yet the blithe finesse of an aristocrat.  This man is ruthless and pragmatic, but oddly idealistic and given to compassion.  He can be magnanimous but he always returns pettiness and violence in kind.  He is cruel yet gracious, demanding but patient, and habitually distant but strangely caring as well.  All but his intimates know him to be a cold and calculating warrior, but Eleena has felt his hot passion first hand. 

 

All in all, Darth Malgus is a very complicated man.  And that keeps drawing her in.  But that is all about to end.

 

While today the Master has been away at the shipyards, the household staff has made a big fuss over Eleena’s imminent departure.  It turns out that she is very well liked despite her short stay.  Everyone wants to give her an appropriate send-off for her new life.  First, Cook brought out a bottle of wine with dinner and everyone drank a toast to her new future and enjoyed a special dessert.  Her housemaid roommate gave her the address of her cousin’s cousin who lives on Ziost.  One of the tech guys also gave Eleena the name of a family friend there to look up.  For in the culture of the Sith, extended family relationships are commonplace and everyone feels sorry for the orphaned ex-slave Eleena.  All this outpouring of friendship and support has her feeling appreciated like never before.  It’s also taking the edge off her anxiety. 

 

She can do this, Eleena keeps telling herself.   In the immediate afterglow of the celebratory dinner, she’s starting to believe it, too.

 

But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t extremely anxious about living on her own.  It is a new thing for Eleena to be completely responsible for herself.  More than once, she has had a panic attack as her anticipation and excitement mounts.   Self-sufficiency sounds so easy until you actually have to accomplish it without any lead up.  Most people progress to independence in stages as they mature into adulthood.  But here she is, almost age thirty-seven and suddenly on her own.  

 

Eleena knows that this is a sink-or-swim moment.  But what if she can’t do the work at her new job?  What if she gets fired?   And will she be able to make new friends?  What if no one likes her because she’s an alien Twi’lek?   There are so many contingencies that could go wrong.  Once Eleena starts thinking of them, her fears threaten to overwhelm her.   And that’s when she has to take a deep breath and start encouraging herself. 

 

You can do this, Eleena repeats in her mind.   You can do this.  

 

She’s been managing accounts for years, so surely she can manage credits for herself.  And while she has been punished by harsh supervisors in the past, it has never been for less than satisfactory work.   And she made friends here at the space station, right?   Surely, she can make friends in her new workplace. 

 

Eleena knows that while she has long lacked power, she has plenty of inner strength.  She might not have been able to make her own decisions in the past, but she is perfectly capable of making choices.  She just wishes that she had a bit more confidence.  Or maybe a roommate to give her some advice and a pep talk now and then. 

 

When she sheepishly broaches the topic with Jose, he instructs her to check in with him every week.  He would be happy to give her advice now and then if she needs it.  But he doesn’t think she will.  You can do this, Jose tells her with sincerity.  But we will be here for you if you need us.  If you get in trouble, we will help, he promises.  And that is reassuring. 

 

You can do this, Eleena repeats in her mind.   You can do this.  

 

After dinner, she spends an hour with Rags and Simmy.  Then Eleena goes up to her room for a shower before she puts on her best dress and fastens her ornate headband.  She’s painting on the last of her lip gloss when her roommate wanders in.  You’re not going to bed, her friend observes as she watches.  No, I’m going to tell the Master goodbye, Eleena explains.  He asked me to come see him tonight.  The housemaid takes a good look at Eleena and then tells her to wait a moment.   Her friend rummages to locate a small bottle of perfume.  She gives Eleena a quick spritz without saying a word. 

 

“Thanks,” Eleena breathes out.  Then she summons her courage and heads upstairs for her exit interview with the resident Dark lord. 

 

All too soon she is standing before the elevator door that will take her to Lord Malgus’ space aerie.  And that’s when she loses her nerve the first time.   Eleena stands there a long moment, uncertain if she can go through with this one last goodbye.  Finally, she swallows hard and reaches for the elevator call button.  But before she can depress it, the door opens.  It seems that the Sith is expecting her and inviting her up with the help of the Force.  With a deep fortifying breath, Eleena steps in.

 

When the door slides open again, it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim.  It’s not gloomy up here in the Master’s apartment.  The darkness feels oddly welcoming and private instead.  The starlight streaming in through the windows softens the oversized rambling room and makes it feel intimate.   Almost candlelit.  It is the perfect setting for a Sith.  Here Darth Malgus is at home immersed in Darkness, both literally and in the Force.

 

The Sith stands silhouetted in his hooded cloak at the far end of the room, his back towards her.  He turns slowly as she approaches. 

 

“Leena.”   He says her name the way he always does.  Omitting the initial ‘E’ and elongating the ‘A.’   No one else says it like he does in that baritone rasp. 

 

Eleena has the urge now to run into his arms and beg him to let her stay.  But that’s not an option.  There is only this.  Here.  Now.  And so as she crosses the room, Eleena focuses on what she has planned to say and do.

 

You can do this, Eleena repeats in her mind.   You can do this.  

 

“My lord,” she begins as she stops a respectful distance back, wringing her hands a bit.  She and Lord Malgus have long since omitted this sort of formality in private but somehow it feels appropriate tonight.   That’s how serious and important this is. 

 

He does not object to her ceremony.  Instead, he nods expectantly with his full Sith Master gravitas.  Then, he throws back his hood.  It’s a casually elegant gesture she has seen many times.  But in this setting, it’s something of a revelation all the same.  His strong, handsome features are half-lit in the starlight, giving his pale skin an eerie white glow.   She must have interrupted Lord Malgus while he was meditating in the Force.  For his deep-set eyes shine feral yellow.   Eleena has seen this dangerous cast to his face many times before in their training.  She recognizes the Dark Side and it doesn’t scare her.  Not now that she knows the man who lies beneath the fierce visage.

 

The heavy armor and flowing robes, the blood red sword, the lined brow and crinkly eyes.  The gruff commands, the random smirk, and the rare, genuine smile.   The posturings of the public Sith do not have her fooled.   For Lord Malgus is so much more than that.   He prefers to inspire loyalty rather than fear.   He is a warrior she has seen walk away from a fight.  This man plants gardens in space and on his ship, even though he has laid waste to entire systems in the past.  He works his men and his staff hard, but he himself works the hardest of all.  He worries over his dog’s hurt paw and he takes pains not to offend the true tyrant in residence—his cook.  And despite all his cool eyed cynicism, he clings fast to his ambitions for himself and for the Sith.   There is an honor to this man, Eleena knows.  He is much more than mere violence.

 

But foremost among all things, Lord Malgus is a man who saw potential in a random slave woman who crossed his path.  It was potential that Eleena didn’t know she had.  And when he told her she was beautiful, he seemed to believe it.  And that made her want to believe it, too.

 

“I w-want to thank you,” she now embarks on her prepared speech.  She had lain awake for hours last night planning how this will go.   “Thank you for saving me . . . for freeing me . . . for taking me in.  And for training me.  For helping me to start a new life.”   She’s so nervous now but determined to see this through.  “Lord Malgus, I will never forget what you have done for me.”  For all the little kindnesses he has shown to the lowly, homely slave woman who accidentally tried to poison him.

 

“You are most welcome,” comes his noblesse oblige reply.  And that’s so him, Eleena thinks.  His peers might look down on Darth Malgus, but this Sith is an aristocrat in all the best ways through and through. 

 

“I will not squander this opportunity you have g-given me,” she promises.  “I will make you, Jose, Cook and all the rest proud.”

 

He nods.  “You will succeed.  No one has any doubt of that.  Jose will give you a comlink tomorrow when you leave.  Do not hesitate to contact him should you need help.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Again, Eleena has the urge to run into his arms.  But they are five meters apart and this feels a bit stilted and awkward.  Is this the consequence of last night’s indiscretion in the arboretum?   Perhaps she had read the situation all wrong and Lord Malgus truly did consider their kiss to be a mistake.  He is certainly keeping his distance tonight.  But then again, she is the one who kicked things off with more formality than usual.  So maybe he is falsely perceiving her intentions as regret.  Does he want her?  Eleena can’t tell.  And this is not something she will risk being wrong about.

 

“Good luck with your new ship,” she tells him as she reverts to Plan B.  “I hope your new crew members are smart and loyal.”  She gives a little smile.  “My lord, they are lucky to serve under your command.”  And maybe she should also wish him good luck with his upcoming marriage, but Eleena can’t bring herself to go that far. 

 

He nods and says nothing in reply.  And now Eleena worries that Lord Malgus is impatient for her to go so that he can get back to meditating in the Force.  “Well . . . I guess this is goodbye,” she says weakly.  She’s flushing now and is glad for the dim light.  She feels a bit silly for the lip gloss and the perfume.  Clearly, last night’s passion will not have a repeat.  She had lain awake agonizing over tonight for nothing, Eleena realizes.  And that’s disappointing but also a relief.

 

“Goodnight, Lord Malgus.”  Eleena turns to leave.

 

“I shall miss you,” he calls after her softly.

 

She stops and half-turns.  “I won’t forget you either, my lord.”  It’s true.  She meets his yellow eyes and smiles wistfully.  Then again, she heads for the door. 

 

Eleena never makes it.  He’s up on her fast before she can take more than two steps.  It must be that Force-assisted speed of his.  “Wait,” he breathes into her ear from behind, whirling her around to face him.  “Don’t go without a proper goodbye kiss.”  And then his mouth claims hers. 

 

He has her face tipped up to his and her cheeks cupped in his hands.  His lips are hungry and his tongue is bold.  And Eleena can’t get enough.  Her arms pull him closer and her hands sink into the heavy folds of his dark cloak.  Holding on tightly because she doesn’t want to let go.  The kiss goes on forever until they both come up for air.

 

“Thank you.” His voice is a hoarse rasp above her ear as she lays her head against his chest and pants in his arms.  “Goodbye, Leena.  I shall miss you.”

 

And this is the encouragement she has been waiting for.   You can do this, Eleena repeats in her mind.   You can do this.  

 

“No, my lord,” she protests.  “Not yet.”  Then Eleena raises her head and reaches with trembling fingers for the back of her dress.  She summons all her courage because Eleena knows she will regret if she doesn’t do this.  With a deep breath, she pulls down the zipper and feels her long gown part in two.   Lord Malgus is watching with an unreadable expression as she shrugs it from her shoulders and lets it drop to the floor.  She’s wearing nothing underneath. 

 

With more bravado than true confidence, Eleena lifts her eyes and silently offers herself to the Sith.

 

* * *

 

 

Malgus sucks in a quick breath as he gazes down at Leena.  Is he dreaming?  No, he’s not dreaming.  So he says the first thing that comes into his mind.  He’s never had much of a filter and he’s caught off guard tonight. 

 

“We can’t do this,” he growls.  For so many reasons, they cannot do this.  But first and foremost, because she is the aggressor physically.  That’s not in keeping with a Sith.  He’s supposed to be the seducer in this relationship.  But this woman unmans him so.  When it comes to romance, she changes things up in a way that confounds him time and again.

 

She is flushing to the roots of her hair.  But she sticks to her guns.  “I want to do this.  For once, let this be my choice.”

 

When she phrases it that way, it breaks his heart.  The vengeful Sith in him wants retribution.  And now, he wants to hunt down and murder every single man who ever forced and intimidated her for sex.  But he can’t.   

 

“Please, love me.  Just for tonight.  Just this once let it be my decision.”   

 

And how can he refuse after he has spent weeks bolstering her autonomy and confidence?  All he can do is empower her by letting her make this choice for herself.  And does she think this is her choice?  Last night he had basically commanded her to come up for goodbye.  Malgus worries that Leena interpreted that as a command performance for sex as well.  And that’s a problem because he doesn’t want to force or intimidate her.  He’s not like all the rest.   He only wants women who are willing.  And that’s especially the case with this one.

 

“Leena—” he begins.  He’s hesitant and searching for the right words.  And trying very hard—and failing—at keeping his eyes on hers.  Despite his best efforts, he keeps glancing down.  Because wow . . . she looks even better than he has imagined.

 

“Please.”  She reaches up and drags him down into her kiss.  When they finally part, she urges him, “Don’t make me beg.”

 

Beg?  No, she won’t have to beg.  He’s done resisting his baser instincts.  There is only so much temptation a man can take.  This woman is far too alluring for her own good.  She doesn’t even truly comprehend it.  It’s part of her subtle, everyday seduction.  But it is potent, all the same, for it has felled this long celibate Sith. 

 

Gods, this woman is beautiful.  He reaches up his hands to fully appreciate her heavy, full breasts.  He’s plundering her mouth now and pulling her close.  Leena’s head lolls back and his lips find her jaw and her neck. 

 

“I want you,” he confesses into her skin.  “I have wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.  I just didn’t know it then.”  Still, he can’t give her a commitment or a promise.  There is nothing for them but tonight.  Does she know that?  They each have a past and come morning they will separate to divergent futures alone.

 

For he has no room in his life for a relationship with Eleena Daru.  He long ago dropped the habit of women, deeming them a distraction he could live without.  Sex is a fleeting pleasure that doesn't have the lasting impact of power and the Force.   And besides, his differences with her are significant.  She is a slave, he is a Dark lord.  She is Republic, he is Sith.  Plus, he'll be getting married soon.  Even if they could have some sort of arrangement, he worries it would only endanger her in the end.  His enemies are many and they are on both sides of the war.  If news of her importance to him were to leak out, it would be impossible to protect her from afar.  For no matter how proficient she becomes at a blaster, she is no match for a Jedi or a Sith.  Or a vindictive rival newlywed wife with the Force.  And who is he kidding?  He won't have time to give Leena any attention.  He'll be gone away to war for weeks at a time, as is. 

 

The far kinder thing is to let her go to find her own way in the universe.  He will be in the background for as long as necessary, but arm's length and only as a friend.  And given all the circumstances, that's for the best.  He's a Sith and so he makes decisions with his head and not with his heart.  No matter how lovely, companionable and appealing Leena is, she does nothing to empower him.  She will only bring him distraction and dishonor, he will only bring her danger and heartache.  And that's why tonight is not a beginning, but an end.  This is not really a one-night stand, but something more like closure and goodbye.

 

“Oh, my lord, yesssss . . .” she hisses.  He’s got her very worked up now.  Malgus might not have done this in a while, but he has not lost his touch.  His fingers pinch her nipples and tease at her breasts.   “Oh . . . yessssss,” she purrs, arching against him with all that soft, smooth blue skin.  And that’s all that it takes for him to toss back his cloak and begin to disrobe himself.  He can’t undress fast enough.

 

But does she really want this?  She seems very enthusiastic and she is here of her own volition, but still . . . he can't tell.   Is this a thank you of sorts?  Maybe something like a quid pro quo for his help?  Or maybe, he thinks sourly, this is how she has always related to men who have helped her in the past.  Sex is currency for many women, after all.  And this particular woman has nothing else to give.  Maybe it shouldn't matter, but the truth is that he doesn't want to be like all the rest.  That's why he had stopped cold that first time he had kissed her in the arboretum.  And so, he feels compelled to ask her again, "Are you sure this what you want?" 

 

“Yes . . . please . . . “

 

Does she know that tonight is all there is?  Yes, he thinks she does.  It's clear she has no expectations of him or any other man.  Because that's how transactional he suspects sex for her has always been.  Malgus doesn't really want to know more about her past experiences.   And part of him feels ashamed for giving in to the temptation Leena has offered to him tonight.  But he tells himself he is different from the others.  That this is her choice.  That he will treat her well.  That he cares for her and some part of him always will.  If he were different, if she were different, if the war were not stalled, and if life were not what it is . . . well, then tonight might hold the promise of a future.  But it doesn’t.  And he won’t kid himself.

 

It's not that he is giving anything up with Leena.  It's more that he is foregoing an opportunity that he knows will have no benefit in the end.  He is a master tactician and he does nothing on a whim.  His life is usually very thought out.  Maybe as a younger man he was prone to fits of temper and impulse, but in maturity this Sith is a cold and calculating man.  Well . . . usually.  Just not tonight.

 

“There is no tomorrow.  All we have is tonight.”  He feels compelled to warn her between open mouthed kisses.

 

“I don’t care—” she groans out huskily as he luxuriates in the feel of her bareness against his.  He envelopes her in his arms again and finds her mouth for another kiss.  He can’t get enough of this contact of skin against skin.

 

Finally, he pulls back and looks her in the eye as he offers her his hand.  “Then, come.   Come to bed.”  She nods silently.  “I won’t hurt you.  Trust me.  Tonight at least you are my lady and I will be your Sith.”

 

She nods again and takes his hand and he leads her to his bed.  Then he reaches for her soft, spongy lekku that feel just like her heavy breasts.  Twi’leks are made for love, or so the old saying goes.  With the long hanging brain tentacles that are a bonus erogenous zone.  He drapes her pretty lekku forward over her breasts and fondles them now, watching her rising desire and rising color too. 

 

“Master . . . allow me . . . “ she tells him as suddenly she sinks to her knees beside the bed.  And, oh . . . her mouth on him is everything.  Malgus shudders with pleasure in the moment.  Yes . . . she definitely knows what she is doing.  Sucking at him, lapping at him, and lavishing attention where he enjoys it most.  Her sweet mouth is so warm and wet.  The perfect mimic for what lies ahead.  It should be enough.  But it’s not.  He’s a Sith so he wants more.  He wants it all.  And so he stops her before it’s too late. 

 

And now he has her on her back as he penetrates her.  Her arms and her lekku cling to him as he thrusts in again and again.  It’s been so long.  Whatever had he been thinking when he gave up sex?  This is every pleasure and this woman is everything.  He wishes he could make her his forever.  That this could be more than one night.  But he won’t consign Leena to life as the other woman.  She deserves more than that. 

 

But for tonight, he loses himself in this bodily rapture, luxuriating in her soft, yielding flesh.  This is the end to a years long dry spell and he simply can’t help himself.  He is in a frenzy of lust, a Sith driven by passion and a man surrendering to a primal, long suppressed urge to mate.  Her body rocks back and force beneath him as he grunts and groans.  He hooks one long blue leg over his shoulder and then the next.  And now he is battering at the promised land between her legs. 

 

Is he hurting her?  He doesn’t want to hurt her?  “I don’t want to hurt you—”

 

“Oh, my lord, don’t stop . . . don’t stop . . .”

 

And all too soon, Leena is gasping as she shudders beneath him and her body spasms around his.  He has forgotten just what this feels like inside a woman.   It’s too much intense sensation and it triggers his own release.  

 

It should be satisfying.  But as he rolls off of her, all Malgus can think is that this is not enough.  They are not done yet.  He wants more.  He pulls her close and strokes her lekku as she breathes hard into his chest. 

 

“You . . . that . . . oh, it was . . .”  Evidently, she has no words.  And that’s just what his ego needs to hear right now.   Darth Malgus is long out of practice on this sort of thing.

 

“You feel amazing,” he tells her sincerely as he drops a kiss on her head. 

 

“My lord, I have never felt that before . . .”   Tonight is an education for Leena, it seems.  Likely none of her other partners have been concerned with her pleasure, only their own. 

 

And that gives Malgus an idea.   After a few minutes of cuddling, he gets down to business again.  There is just so much of Eleena Daru left to explore.  His initial rush of lust is slaked and now it’s time to fully appreciate this woman.  Malgus plans to give her the experience she deserves.  Because he is different from all the rest. 

 

He and Leena are not young and starry eyed.  They harbor no foolish hopes in vain.  They are adults long grown, who know the way of things.  That much of life is fleeting in one way or the other, both the good times and the bad times.  Whatever the current state of things, this too shall pass.  And so happiness is something to be snatched at with eager hands.   Even if it’s just one night.   For that is the consequence of maturity and experience.  They temper your expectations and put into perspective both highs and lows.  And that’s why tonight, Malgus vows silently, will be something neither of them will soon forget.

 

So when once more Leena has found her pleasure and regained her senses again, he tells her, “Climb on top.”

 

“On . . . top??”  She meets his eyes.  “I’ve never done that . . .”  

 

Of course, she hasn’t.  All the men she has been with have probably wanted to dominate this slave girl.  “Go on,” he urges with a sly grin.  “Time to take control.”

 

And she does.  Gingerly she straddles him, glancing anxiously his way.  And oh, this is so deep and feels so good.  He laces hands with hers and now she starts to move.  Tentatively at first and then with more gusto.  Yes, she likes this position and soon she grows more bold.  Grinding away and thrusting down hard while he lays back to appreciate from below her bouncing breasts and lekku.  It is a beautiful sight.

 

When they are both spent, she collapses forward onto him.  Utterly done.  “Oh, Leena,” he sighs as his arms envelope her.  “How delightful you are.”

 

She kisses him deeply now and then pulls back.  “Thank you, my lord.  For this and for everything.  Goodnight.”

 

“No, stay.”  He reflexively grabs at her with both hands.  “Stay.  Sleep a bit with me,” he blurts out.  He’s not yet ready for this to end.

 

“Okay,” she instantly agrees.

 

And now he reaches over for the oxygen mask by his bed.  He fesses up now that he needs it to rest.  “I usually sleep with the respirator for my lungs.”  He feels embarrassed admitting this to her.  It’s not exactly romantic.  “Weakness does not become a Sith, but it is what it is.”

 

She doesn’t look troubled by this reveal at all.  She’s looking at him as if nothing could diminish him in her eyes.  “It’s a war injury, right?  Shouldn’t that be sufficiently Sith?”  She reaches to smooth the mask over his jaw, telling him, “My lord, you can be weak with me.”

 

He falls asleep that night on his back with Leena beside him.  He can feel her breasts and her soft belly up against him as she drapes an arm across his chest.   How long has it been since he has actually slept with a woman?  So long that he cannot recall.  But it is nice.  Very nice.  He could get used to this.

 

In the morning, there is no awkwardness.  Things are easy with Leena, just like always of late.   If anything, Malgus is the one who is unsettled.

 

“Wear your blaster for safety,” he instructs her sternly as they stand together at the elevator door.  “If you get into trouble—money or otherwise—contact Jose to help.  Understand?”

 

She nods.

 

“Leena,” he searches her eyes, memorizing them.  “Never let anyone diminish you.  You are far more capable than you know.”

 

Again, she nods.  Her bottom lip starts trembling now.  He sees tears brim in her eyes and he looks away.   Yes, this is harder for her than she is letting on.  All this stoicism is learned from years of slavery, he knows.

 

“May the Force be with you,” she whispers. 

 

“And also with you,” he responds by rote.  Then with a last, long, searing kiss he sends her back to her room. 

 

Hours later, Jose leaves with Leena for the trip to Ziost.  Jose makes sure she is settled in her new furnished apartment and knows where to go for her job.  Leena is left with a household droid, a bank account with plenty of credits, and a subspace comlink.  She is firmly launched into the Sith middle class.  Again, she is reminded to contact Jose if she needs help.  In the Sith culture of influence and connections, the personal servant of a Dark lord like Darth Malgus can make problems go away. 

 

And that is that.  It is a clean break.  Everything goes as planned. 

 

Three weeks later, Darth Malgus stands at the helm of the _Absolute_ as she launches out of planetary dock.   Captain Ledbetter gives a rousing speech to the crew as he silently looks on.  Then the decades old dreadnought begins her maiden voyage as a newly refurbished warship.  She is armed to the teeth and shielded far better than most of the Sith fleet.  Plus, her hyperdrive is lightning fast.  She is a ship to be proud of, Malgus thinks.  A worthy successor to her predecessor that disintegrated with all hands lost.

 

He is happy to return to war full time and breathing a sigh of relief.  So far, his poaching of crewman has not led to much pushback.  That’s probably because rumors have circulated about his imminent connection to the well-liked Darth Serevin.  News of the marriage arrangements has spread, no doubt at the behest of Serevin himself.  And while the settlement negotiations are not yet fully concluded, a deal between he and his new father-in-law seems very close. 

 

Even with his approaching marriage, Malgus thinks about Eleena Daru more often than he likes.  Usually it’s in bed alone as he relives their night together in wild fantasies.  Malgus has the image of her shrugging off her dress, looking simultaneously bold and scared, seared into his brain. 

 

Leena checks in with Jose weekly and Malgus is glad for that.  Things seem to be going well.  Just a few days ago, Leena sent a picture of herself smiling proudly with a coworker at her desk.  Jose had forwarded it on without comment like he does all her messages.  The picture had made Malgus smile but it also conjured the same old longings.  It will take time, he knows, to get over what might have been.   Some of this, Malgus suspects, is just his reawakened drive for sex.   He had broken a very long dry spell with Leena, and once a man has sex he tends to crave it more. 

 

It helps that Malgus continues to be very busy.  The weeks slip by as he reasserts himself at the warfront.  For every one of his lost crewmen, Darth Malgus plans to kill two Republic soldiers.  He’s already met his goal of taking out at least two Republic capital ships.   

 

Everything is going well one random morning as Malgus stalks back from the bridge to his private office.  His hounds follow closely on his heels.  He decided to bring the dogs onboard to cheer them up and as also as a gesture of goodwill to his bride to be.  Ragnos and Simus are now the unofficial mascots of the _Absolute_.  It’s a little unorthodox, but most chalk it up to another Darth Malgus eccentricity.  

 

He is busy today working on his Core invasion strategy.  As Malgus anticipated, the recent Rim world conquests have done little to convince anyone that the war is moving forward.  But with the Sith forces wandering around fruitlessly, the enemy has been unusually focused of late.  Emboldened might be the better term. 

 

And that’s why before Darth Malgus reaches his office, a junior lieutenant flunkey hurries to intercept him.  “My lord, we’ve just received word of an invasion--”  The man’s eyes are wide and he is clearly agitated.

 

“Who’s doing the invading?” Malgus drawls.  “Is it us or them?”

 

“The Republic, Sir.  I wouldn’t have thought them capable of this, but they have struck at us behind the neutral zone.”

 

Malgus’ eyes narrow.  This is news indeed.  “Where?”

 

And then the lieutenant names the system he and every other Sith commander least suspect:  “Ziost.”

 

 

 

END PART ONE

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for reading.  Here is some context for Part One.

 

I have been wanting to write a Darth Malgus-Eleena Daru fic for basically a year now.  It all came about when I clicked on one of those Snoke theory clickbait articles that came up on my Facebook feed.  Darth Maglus was one of the options for Snoke’s true identity and I had no idea who Malgus was so I read a bit about him and about his Twi’lek lover Eleena Daru.  I immediately thought to myself—I want to write these two! 

 

I find Malgus fascinating for a number of reasons.  First, while he has all the zeal of a power mad Sith, in the old EU he is a bit of a reformer at heart in his views on aliens and infighting among the Sith.  Those ideas feature prominently in this fic.  I made Malgus a man feared but disliked.  And that holds him back among his peers.  I also loved the idea of the Old Sith Empire where there were Sith everywhere, fighting each other even as they fight the Republic and the Jedi.   Malgus sees the limitations of his competitive culture.  I like to think of him as a precursor to Darth Bane and the “Rule of Two.”  There will be a lot of infighting and scheming to come in this fic as it unfolds.

 

And, for the record, I’m not making this up—not all of it at least.  Darths Angral, Serevin, Adraas, and Azamin (to come) all existed in the EU.  Adraas was indeed Malgus’ rival.  Serevin was his ally.  Ziost existed too. It was the ‘Gateway to the Empire’ and a major buffer world between the Republic and the Empire during Emperor Vitiate’s reign.  Ziost was invaded, but the facts are different than will be presented here.  The Battle for Coruscant (to come) existed too.  I take liberties with the old EU, but I take inspiration from it as well.

 

This story takes place in the middle of Malgus’ career as he is pushing into the upper echelons of power and experiencing frustration at being shunted aside.  Power in the Old Sith Empire is more than just the Force.  It’s a far more complex game to play than for the Sith of the prequel and original trilogy era.  In my mind, there are Old Sith who are lacking in the Force but powerful in politics or in war.  And there are Old Sith who are masters of the Force but so secluded as to be irrelevant in the political arena and therefore they don’t get their due.  Getting the trifecta of political, military, and Force power makes you the ultimate Sith in this time period.  But mind you, your peers are all after the same goal.  I love the idea of a Sith who struggles for supremacy, only against his peers and not against his master or his enemies.  That is unique to this Old Republic SW era. 

 

Malgus is an outsider by his birth and also by his opinions and actions.  And that is the initial connection with Eleena.  In the old EU, Malgus meets very young Eleena in the slave pens on Geonosis.  Seeing she is abused, Malgus kills her master and takes Eleena for his own.  They are lovers in private but ostensibly master and slave.  This really didn’t fit for me.  First, no self-respecting Sith is going to be randomly moved by compassion for a slave.  It’s just not in their nature to be out righting the injustices of the world.  (Even Jedi in Episode 1 decline to free slaves).  It’s not that Sith do not ever have compassion, but that compassion is not the driving emotion behind their everyday actions.  In my story, the lovers meet by accident with Eleena as the unaware, unwilling pawn in a plot to kill Malgus.  Yes, he has compassion for her, but she also triggers his sense of loyalty and that is why he saves her.  Initially, he doesn’t intend to keep her.  But that’s, of course, how it ends up eventually.  Like so many of my Sith tales, love comes to a Sith when he isn’t looking for it and isn’t expecting it.  In fact, it usually comes at an inconvenient time.  Certainly, this is an inconvenient time for Malgus since he is angling to take a wife.

 

I really didn’t want to write another captive damsel-in-distress story.  Most of my Reylo has that aspect to the plot here and there.  I also didn’t want to write a master and slave relationship.  And so, it was important to me that Malgus free Eleena straightaway.   Unlike many of my other Sith characters, Malgus isn’t out to dominate Eleena.  He doesn’t have to—with her slave background Eleena has pretty well internalized subservience.  This was really important for me—I resisted the urge to make Eleena some sort of long-suffering but sassy slave girl who slays the amused Sith.  Instead, I wanted slavery to leave its mark on Eleena.  She is a capable person, intelligent and trained in her craft, but with very low expectations for how others should treat her.  She’s too eager to please and slow to assert her own agency.   Why?  Because her slave experience matters.  It shapes who she is and it’s not something that is easily shaken off.  Quite simply, I didn’t want to trivialize slavery’s impact on a person.  I also didn’t want to make her some teenaged/young twenties girl.  I wanted Eleena to be a grown woman with plenty of experience in life.

 

I have written my share of Sith characters.  Most are predators in some respects.  They are aggressive, violent men who demand life on their own terms.  That can lead to toxic, abusive relationships.   Not so for _Darker_.  The lovers in this tale will be together on their own volition.  No one will be locked in a literal or figurative cell.   This relationship will be remarkably healthy and mutually beneficial.  So if you are expecting a tyrannical, manipulator or abuser for Malgus, you will be disappointed.  He is no domineering womanizer.  No sadistic lover.  And while Eleena will at times be a damsel in need of saving, she is by no means weak or passive.   That’s the crux of her character—if you only see her as her slave background, you miss what it is to be Eleena Daru.   She is much more than what she appears, and that is part of what draws Malgus to her.  She may have been a victim in other circumstances, but not with Darth Malgus.  Rather than steal her agency, Malgus tries to nurture it. 

 

To be clear:  it’s not that Malgus is an enlightened Sith for our #metoo era, so much as that he would much rather empower Eleena than dominate her.  He’s also just not that motivated by sex right now.  He’s got bigger ambitions and problems to deal with currently. 

 

Our Sith is obsessed with power and he decides to empower the slave woman who helped him.  He self-identifies with her plight although their experiences are not even close, so it’s more like narcissistic self-pity than true empathy.  But it’s the motivation for our Sith beginning his Pygmalion makeover of Eleena.  A version of this happens in every Reylo story I write, usually at the behest of Snoke.  It’s a Sith thing to recognize potential and start manipulating it.  Malgus does much the same here as he elevates the slave woman by treating her well, dressing her up, and teaching her combat skills.  He’s a Sith who’s turned on by power and he’s grooming Eleena into a version of his angry, chip-on-his-shoulder self.  But Malgus and Eleena are surrounded by rival Sith looking to undermine and betray.  Malgus can’t be with a slave woman, especially if he is to marry into a good Sith family (shades of _La Traviata_ family slut-shaming to come here).  And love is an emotion fraught with peril for a Sith.  Ultimately, Malgus is going to want it all—both the aristocratic peer wife and his slave lover.  You know that’s not going to work out, right? 

 

Eleena does not have the Force.  She is like Padme, Lady Vader and like Cresta, Lady Sidious.  She is an ordinary woman whose allure is herself and not her power.   That makes the relationship very different from my Reylo tales.   The balance of the Force and the fate of the galaxy are not at stake here.  Only a Sith’s heart and happiness.  The conflicts for our lovers are of their own making (Malgus’ arranged marriage and his many Sith enemies) and more traditional foes (the Republic and enemy Jedi).   But do not underestimate those challenges:  these two face very long odds.

 

I like to think of Malgus as being a lot like Darth Vader in mindset.  He’s a man who is pragmatic about war and about power.  And like all my Sith, he thinks he’s doing the right thing—my Sith are always heroes in their own minds.  I also envision Vader as being frustrated and impatient with his Master and with many of the obligations of his role.  (See my very bitter Vader in my fic _A New Hope_ )  Similarly, Malgus has not yet achieved all that he thinks he should, and he feels thwarted.  And, like Vader, Malgus secretly lusts to rule it all. 

 

I’m not the only person who sees the parallels between the two characters.  One of the critiques of Malgus is that’s he’s another version of Vader.  Yeah, they both use a respirator, wear black, and use a red sword.  But I don’t see those two men having similar personalities.  Malgus is bitter for entirely different reasons than Vader.  Malgus is also far more patient and far less easily baited.  Watch Vader choke the annoying Imperial officer in ANH before Tarkin talks him down.   When someone mouths off to Vader or fails Vader, he kills them.  But when someone annoys Malgus, he is far more likely to walk on by.  Malgus doesn’t have time for that shit and he probably figures the annoying person is too stupid to know better.  You’re more likely to get fired by Malgus than to get choked.  Unlike Darth Vader, Malgus doesn’t shoot the messenger bearing bad news.  He reserves his deadly force for underlings who are truly a threat—like the spy he beheads in Part One.

 

Physically, Vader and Malgus are also different.  Vader has a broken body (the best part of _Rogue One_ is that fleeting scene of the naked, crippled, and vulnerable Sith in his bacta bath before we next him stride forth in full armor appearing his usual public self).  Anakin was always a tall, rangy sort of guy.  Lean and sinewy.  Not so burly Malgus who I envision looking enormous when wearing his full armor.  This is a stout and solid man.   He has the Sith version of a ‘Dad bod’.  Like some NFL linebacker five years into retirement.  There is still plenty of muscle to his bulk, but he’s far from lean.  This is not a guy who has Crossfit muscle definition.  He doesn’t have two hours to spend in the gym every day like some Hollywood leading man.

_Darker_ is not a Skywalker story, but it continues the main theme of most of my Sith tales:  the intersection of power and love.  What does it mean to put love before everything else?  Well, for Anakin Skywalker, it means a descent into Darkness.  That sort of gets lost in the prequel trashing that goes on, in my opinion.  The idea of love being supreme sounds so romantic on its face, but there is a selfish component too. 

 

That selfish angle was very vividly portrayed in the ending to my Reylo fic _Fulcrum_.  Dark Sith Kylo loves his scavenger love/victim Rey so much that he will sacrifice anything for her.  He loves her more than power, much to wily Snoke’s frustration (and later, his gain in _Fulcrum Part 2_ —Snoke being Snoke, he always has multiple angles).   I think that many readers who howled at the ending of _Fulcrum_ missed that bit.  Kylo is willing to put love before his own ambitions and from his point of view that is a huge sacrifice.  It’s also in many ways a huge step forward for the character of Kylo at the end of that fic.  Some readers got it—they understood that this wasn’t Kylo having his cake and eating it too.  But most seemed to focus only on the horrific sacrifice that was required and now truly tragic it was from Rey’s perspective.  It’s kind of a shame that most of the SW fan fiction world only knows me from _Fulcrum_.  I tried to write something I probably didn’t have the skill to pull off.   Anyhow, power versus love is a tradeoff in _Fifth Wife_ and again in _Tied on a String_.  It is a persistent theme of my Sith stories.  You’ll see it again here.

 

Like so many of my Sith characters, Malgus is not what he outwardly appears.  My Sith lords are complicated, sometime contradictory men with big ambitions and big lives.  And that tends to draw their ladies into a web of deception and danger.  Once my Sith meets his lady, things are irreparably changed for both of them.  Though you can try to get away from these men (or they can try to push you away, as is the case in this story), that never works.  My Sith and his fated lady keep having their paths cross until love blooms.  And then, things tend to get really complicated. 

 

These two lovers are not looking to get together.  And they don't hop into bed right away like their younger versions might.   Eleena is cautious and scarred by her past experiences.  Malgus is not a man who is overly aggressive any more.  But still, they find each other.  And, recognizing the limitations of their respective situations, they go their separate ways.  These are no Romeo and Juliette young lovers willing to flout the unspoken rules of life.  These are seasoned people who know what it means to deal with the consequences of bad decisions.  Never fear, their paths will cross again. 

 

The social boundaries of life matter and they are remarkably persistent.  Some of us for one reason or another will spend our whole lives on the outside looking in.  Being peripheral to the world we live in.  The ultimate outsider is, of course, the person who is only marginally accepted.  They are sufficient to get in the group but will never feel a part of it.  With one foot in and one foot out.  And that is the push pull of wanting the benefits of belonging and conforming, but not wanting to accept the attitudes that excluded you in the first place.  That is the position where Lord Malgus lives.

_Darker_ has none of the family legacy/Chosen One themes that pervade my other stories.  Malgus is not a fallen Skywalker prince, he’s a self-made man living in a world of mostly inherited success.  He’s a match for the lowly slave woman who exists at the bottom rung of society.  Neither character has any expectations to live up to or natural family allegiances or conflicts.  Their conflicts are with a mostly hostile world that wants to hold them back and keep them down.  That concept of making my protagonists outsiders was really appealing.  Malgus will be brash and obnoxious to his peers but it’s his ideas that are truly the most threatening part of him.  Eleena is an outsider in every way.  It goes beyond her Republic origins and slave status.  As an alien Twi’lek, she looks different and that’s not something she can hide.   

 

If you are lucky enough to blend in perfectly in your own world, then you don’t know what a benefit that is.  But those of us who walk through life being different than others’ expectations for whatever reason know how pervasive and frustrating others’ judgement can be.  Transcending other’s expectations can be harder than it seems, and societal judgements have a way of burrowing deep into your psyche until you half believe them yourself.  I’m no social justice warrior, but there is always an angle of race/class/sometimes gender in my stories.  _Darker_ contains some of the most developed thoughts on those themes.  ( _Red_ contains a lot of this stuff too.)

 

It’s a Cinderella pairing, as usual.  Somehow, it always ends up that way for my Sith princes.  The Skywalker scion gets a scavenger girl.  The Naboo aristocrat Senate candidate gets the ballet dancer who moonlights as an exotic dancer.  The ultra-insider, very social, very jaded Muun banker kidnaps himself a Jedi librarian because he is charmed by the gullible girl next door.  My Sith are always well intentioned—they usually want to rescue the girl from her travails.  And they want to help her succeed.  Malgus saving and then freeing Eleena is in perfect keeping with this plot trope.  The problem is that in saving and helping the girl, she also gets dragged down into the predatory world of the Sith.  Therein lies the drama.

 

So, I have written some crazy stuff.  Kylo Ren as the space pope trying to balance the Force, Luke Skywalker as the real Jedi killer at his own temple, Snoke resurrecting himself and others, Hux martyred by a Resistance firing squad, Anakin’s Force ghost telling Kylo to run away and cut himself off from the Force, seductions in Sith temples, aborted executions . . . I could go on.  What can I say?   I love SW and I like to push things a bit when I write.  But the shock of this story is that it’s so tame.  So human.  So not the S-and-M filled tale, with a vaguely abusive father figure and a totally fucked up young victim like everyone expects.   Why?    Because I think telling the story this way is far more tragic and far more realistic.  My Sith are never what they appear and their public deeds often have private motives that few know.  The subtext of what is public and what is private is always featured in my stories because, of course, my Sith are leaders.

 

This story will be written in large chunks, as is my habit of late.  I expect this fic will have four parts total.  Part One is the lovers meeting and parting.  Part Two is the ripening war.  Part Three follows our lovers’ affair and Malgus’ ambitions.  Part Four tells the events leading up to the Battle of Coruscant.   I am reworking already existing text for Parts One and Two—that’s why chapters are coming out so fast.  Things will slow down eventually when I get to new writing.  I don’t plan to rush this story like I rush out my Reylo.  My goal all along has been to make _Darker_ really good.   I want to do these lovers and their story justice.   And I want this story to be better than _Ghosts of the Past,_ which I consider my best attempt so far.

 

In the original draft of this fic, I described _Darker_ as fairytale of rage.  And that description still fits.  This Cinderella has a Dark underpinning of anger.  She’s about to come face to face with frustration and disappointment that will radicalize her fast.  That theme of disillusionment will continue and it will be the defining hallmark of Malgus by the end.  Sometimes in life, things happen that are so momentous that you are changed and you can’t see the world the way you did before.   And when you break free of your own expectations and the limitations of others, all bets are off.   Especially when you’re a Sith . . .   

 


	15. Chapter 15

Military strategists on both sides agree: urban warfare on a developed world is treacherous for all involved.  The setting maximizes civilian casualties and it maximizes ground troop casualties as well.  It also renders a lot of modern battle technologies useless.  You are relegated to age-old infantry tactics, guerrilla warfare and, when all else fails, indiscriminately blowing things up.  If you win, you have a destroyed world and a decimated population and the victor’s bragging rights.  If you lose, you have a destroyed world and a decimated population and the loser’s shame. 

 

Simply put, there is no real winning this.

 

Space battles are a far cleaner choice of engagement, with the option for conquest of lesser defended outlying worlds close behind.   But neither has the strategic and media impact of invading a world like Ziost.  It is a bold and splashy move that instantly escalates things.  It’s not quite like invading Coruscant, but it’s close.  The Republic certainly has everyone’s attention now.

 

The move is very unexpected because the Sith world Ziost is a trade hub that has dealings with both sides.   All the major Republic merchant banks have branches on Ziost. Many of the major Republic investment firms do too.  For the most part, the financial dealings are overt but there is plenty of money laundering going on alongside legitimate business.  The truth is that there are credits to be made on both sides of the war for big corporate businesses and the major crime syndicates.   The galaxy’s peoples might not be unified but its economy largely is.   And so Ziost has long been assumed to have a strategic position to both sides that will insulate it from active war. 

 

But that assumption has proven wrong, everyone now knows.  And the fate of billions of civilians, including one woman in particular, hangs in the balance.   What will happen next is anyone’s guess.

 

In the eighteen hours the _Absolute_ spends in hyperspace on its way to the designated rendezvous point, Malgus reviews the incoming reports from Ziost.   Information is sketchy at best given the Republic’s communications blackout.  Plus, it is a dynamic situation.  That means what was true twelve hours ago might no longer be true.  Change is the nature of active combat, Malgus knows.  Things change and keep changing.    What’s really going on down on Ziost is anyone’s guess.  And that worries him . . . a lot.   The planet has mostly extraplanetary defenses—all of which were overrun—but it has several troop garrisons too.  It’s not enough to drive out an invasion force but it’s something, he decides.  Malgus estimates that the local troops can put up at best a few days of organized resistance before they are subdued. 

 

All in all, the situation is pretty bleak, he concludes.  Captain Ledbetter sees it the same way.

 

There aren’t a lot of good options in this situation if you’re the loser.  You can let the world go entirely and walk away, figuring that this is a pyrrhic victory for the Republic.  After all, Ziost’s importance is mainly as a safe trade hub, and that’s gone forever now.  Or you can blockade the invaded planet and starve the enemy and your own people into submission.  That takes time and ties up resources.  His least preferred option is to invade and engage the enemy on the ground, hoping to dislodge them.  Then you ambush them during the retreat when they pull out.   The problem with that approach is that this Sith world has plenty of Republic off-worlders in residence, so while the troops in different uniforms are easily recognizable for their allegiance, the civilians are not.  And that presents lots of opportunity for mischief.  A prolonged ground war on Ziost holds little appeal, Malgus judges.

 

When the _Absolute_ arrives at the rendezvous point, Malgus immediately heads to Darth Angral’s flagship.  The leader of the Sith navy is convening an emergency council of war.  Angral knows a quick decision is necessary, so he has summoned only a select group.  It’s Malgus and his rival Adraas along with Angral from the navy, three very respected Dark Lord generals from the army, and the three military representatives who sit on the Dark Council and report to the Emperor himself.  This is the brain trust of the Sith military and it is a mark of respect to be included.  It tells Malgus that the Council truly was nonplussed about the loss of his cruiser.   Angral had said as much, but this is proof.

 

Malgus is coming from the farthest distance so he is the last of the group to arrive.  He marches down his shuttle ramp into the _Oppressor_ ’s hangar bay to an audience of sullen, resentful peers.  Anyone who is anyone in the Sith military is here hanging out, it seems.  The invasion of Ziost is the biggest development in the war for years and every Sith Lord with a sword wants to say they played a part.  This jockeying for position is typical, Malgus thinks to himself.  The only thing worse will be the race to claim credit in the aftermath.  For there is never enough glory to go around.  Unless, of course, the Sith lose.  Victory has a thousand fathers, Malgus knows, but defeat is an orphan.  No doubt if they lose, his rivals will find a way to pin it on him.

 

Once Malgus and the other eight Dark Lords are in a conference room away from prying eyes, Angral convenes the meeting as host.  It begins with the lead general giving an overview of the current situation on Ziost.  The general’s assessment is spot on with Malgus’ own bleak view.  After a few rounds of questions by the Council members, Darth Angral turns to him.  Lord Malgus, he asks, what are our options?  

 

This is his role, Malgus knows.  He is the unacknowledged but undisputed lead strategist of the Sith.  The powers that be all want his opinion and his help, even if they do not like him personally.  As usual, Malgus does not sugarcoat things.  He objectively tells it like it is, methodically laying out his analysis.  He answers a lot of questions and then sits back to listen to his peers.  For predictably, before the Sith can fight the Republic, they first have to fight each other.   Everything, it seems, requires a minimum of an hour’s introductory debate.  There is the usual bluster as Adraas and the generals try to out-Sith one another for who can be the most outraged and vindictive about things.  That’s a lot of wasted emotion, Malgus thinks, as he watches the other Dark lords do everything but beat their chests.  When all the other men have had their say—and then some—Darth Angral pulls his usual move and cedes the floor back to him.  Lord Malgus, the Sith admiral asks, what do you recommend?

 

“We are warriors who choose our battles wisely,” he reminds everyone.  “I would not choose this one.” He shrugs and voices the unpopular view.  “I would walk away from Ziost.  Let them have it and waste resources occupying it.  Do just the minimum to harass them now and then.”

 

“Ziost gives them a foothold in the Empire,” Darth Angral observes pointedly.  He’s unconvinced.  “That system isn’t called the gateway to the Empire for nothing.  Its importance is more than just trade.”

 

“They have violated the neutral zone!”  Darth Adraas is his usual emphatic blustering self.  “You would let this outrage go unanswered?” 

 

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Malgus retorts.  “We should answer them in kind by invading Coruscant.”

 

That silences the room.  All eyes are on him.

 

“Tell us more,” invites wily old Darth Azamin, one of the Dark Council members.

 

“We go on offense instead of defense,” Malgus explains.  “We respond by opening a new battlefront in this war and hit them where it hurts.  Then, we’ll see how long they will continue to tie up resources on Ziost.  Why bother dislodging them from our territory when we can coax them out instead?  Having them abandon Ziost likely will have the benefit of preserving the cities and the populace with minimal damage,” he points out.

 

Darth Angral is the only man in attendance who has seen this suggestion coming.  Angral, of course, knows of his interest in a strategy to invade the Core.  Malgus now presses ahead to outline in broad strokes his working plan to invade Coruscant.  Once he is finished, he sits back and listens to his peers critique him.

 

“You’re assuming that the Republic invaded Ziost to occupy it rather than use it as a temporary foothold,” Darth Adraas points out.  “They might be just looking to progress to Begeren or maybe Krayiss.  And that puts them a short hyperspace jump off Dromund Kaas.  They’ll be on our doorstep, Malgus, while you’re still getting our fleet to the Core to attack Coruscant.  How will we defend our capital then?” he demands.

 

Everyone looks to him for a rejoinder.

 

“We will know soon enough what their plans are on Ziost.  All we need to do is to monitor their troop and supply movements.   They will not outfit a temporary outpost with an occupation force.”

 

“But you think they want to occupy Ziost,” old Darth Azamin speaks up again.  “Why?”

 

“My lord, if there ever was a Sith world for the Republic to occupy, Ziost is it.  Almost a quarter of its citizens are Republic expats.  On Ziost, at least, they have friends.”

 

“That reasoning also makes it a logical choice for a temporary outpost,” Azamin counters quietly.

 

Malgus nods but contends, “You are missing the point entirely.”  He looks around the room at his assembled colleagues.  “All of you are. The Republic doesn’t see this as an occupation.  They think they are liberating Ziost.”  Adraas openly scoffs at this but Malgus shuts him down.  “Step out of our perspective and see it from theirs,” he argues.  “They probably think Ziost is ripe for liberation because it is in the neutral zone with a lot of ties to the Republic and a large minority Republic population.  What we view as Republic propaganda, they actually believe.  All that talk of freedom and self-determination and democracy is more than words to them.  In their minds, they are doing a good thing by invading our world.”

 

“So they are saving our people from us?” Adraas is skeptical.

 

“In their minds, yes,” Malgus decides. 

 

“That’s preposterous,” Adraas announces.  Around the room Malgus sees a chorus of nods.  Angral in particular is shooting him a dirty look. 

 

“It’s not preposterous from the Republic point of view,” Malgus digs in.  “You have to understand your enemy to defeat them.  I’m not asking you to agree with the Republic, just to think like the Republic.  You must take their viewpoint seriously when you evaluate their strategy.”

 

“Their strategy is clear,” Adraas snaps back.  “They are invading the Empire starting with Ziost.  Positioning themselves to leapfrog across our major systems.  And I, for one, refuse to let them do it.  I vote we stop them at Ziost.”

 

Malgus tries again.  “We don’t have to send all of our forces to Coruscant.  We can keep a blockade perimeter around Ziost to keep them hemmed in.  When they try to leave to defend Coruscant, we strike.”

 

“And if they run the blockade and succeed in a deeper incursion into the Empire?  What then, Malgus?” Angral demands.

 

“Then worst case we abandon the play at Coruscant and hunker down amid our major systems.”

 

“So the strike on Coruscant is a feint?” old Azamin asks.

 

“No, my lord,” Malgus explains.  “It needs to be a sufficient force to lay waste to their capital world.  The goal is to do more than just dislodge them from Ziost.  The goal is to take Coruscant and force the surrender of the Republic.”

 

“That’s a bold move,” Azamin raises an eyebrow and looks around the room at the unconvinced faces.

 

“I want to win this war,” Malgus proclaims.  It comes out a bit righteous.  “I’m willing to concede Ziost temporarily to achieve that.”

 

Adraas now calls him out.  “That strategy will not win the war.  Malgus, it will lose it.  This is another Alderaan all over again and we all see it.  We’ve heard before from you how we need to attack the Republic in the Core.  It didn’t work before and it won’t work now.  And with the Republic in striking distance of Dromund Kaas currently, the timing is all wrong.”

 

“This isn’t Alderaan,” Malgus hisses, irritated at Adraas throwing a long ago defeat in his face.  “This is Ord Radama, only the tables are turned.  Holding a conquest is harder than capturing it in the first place.  We learned that.  Now, it’s time for the Republic to learn that, too.  We starve them of supplies and reinforcements with a blockade and simultaneously head for their capital world.  Let’s take the war to their turf.”

 

The discussion degenerates from there.  The mention of the Sith defeat on Alderaan pretty much kills all rational consideration of his plan.  Still, the meeting drags on for three full hours of incessant debate before a decision becomes clear.  Malgus loses, of course.   There is too much testosterone fueled rage for payback in the room.  Too much zeal for immediate war.  And also, too much fear of making a decision that will prove to be incorrect.  This is a shortcoming of the Sith command structure, Malgus thinks.   Too many leaders are afraid to make a mistake and therefore they default to making defensive decisions.  That’s not how a Sith should lead, he sniffs.  All these conservative, defensive strategies have done is lead to a stalemate in the years long war.   Finally, at long last, one side makes a bold play and ironically it’s the Republic.  Really, Malgus thinks privately, we ought to be ashamed to have been out-Sithed by the enemy at Ziost. 

 

Of the nine men in attendance, the overwhelming majority of eight vote to engage the enemy directly on the streets of Ziost.  Malgus is the only naysayer vote.  He is a true Sith and he always plots with his head and not his heart.  Emotional decisions are usually stupid decisions in his experience.  And he says so.  He also thinks that the response to Ziost should be a well thought out strategy to win, and not merely a reactionary move.  He says this too.  Not that anyone cares.  They all expect him to fall in line and vote with the prevailing group, but Malgus digs in this time.  Yeah, it may have been a bit petulant.  But Adraas got under his skin again with all his veiled references to his lost ship and repeated cracks about the Battle of Alderaan. 

 

As the others file out of the room, Darth Angral lingers behind.  He observes sharply, “I thought we were going to vet the Coruscant plan in advance before it was presented to the Council.”

 

Annoyed Malgus shrugs.  “That was before they invaded Ziost.  It was no longer a theoretical exercise then, my lord.”

 

“There is a reason we have a chain of command, Malgus,” Darth Angral reminds him coldly. “And I am at the top of that chain.”

 

“You’re still in command,” Malgus retorts, “And you and the rest got your way.  No one even considered my suggestion seriously,” he grumbles.  And besides, Malgus suspects that Angral is mostly put out that he won’t get to claim the Coruscant strategy partly for his own.  Today’s discussion before the three Dark Council members had made clear that it was Malgus’ brainchild alone.

 

“This,” the older man hisses at him, raising the scarred eyebrow above his cybernetic eye, “is why you are so disliked.  You,” his sometime mentor accuses with an aggressive jabbing finger to Malgus’ chest, “impede your own success.”  Then the Sith admiral sweeps away in a dignified huff.

 

Whatever.  Malgus has had enough haters for today.  He has done his duty strategizing for the war effort and once the rest of the commanders finish bickering long enough to put together a battle plan, he will do his duty as part of the invasion force.  But in the meantime, there is something Malgus desperately wants to do.  For ever since that junior lieutenant had found him to relay the news of Ziost, Malgus has felt desperate to help Eleena.   He was the one to send her to Ziost after assuring her it was a safe world.  It makes him feel responsible for her wellbeing.  And now that the Sith will be sending a counter-invasion force in, things on that planet are about to get dicey for civilians.

 

Malgus now promptly finds Ledbetter and puts him in complete command of the _Absolute_.  Then he assembles his ten best on-the-ground fighting men in a room.  They are part of an elite strike team of Sith troopers used mostly for tactical raids.  Malgus has never fought with them.  He has no idea if they are any good.  And these men, in turn, know nothing of their commanding Sith.  Malgus eyes the ten men slowly and they respectfully eye him back.  Each sizes the other up silently for a long moment.

 

Then, Malgus begins.  This is a risky, optional assignment, he tells them.  It is off-the-record and unofficial, and there will be no backup or reinforcements.  Most likely, not all of you will be coming back.  Maybe none of us will make it out alive.  To be clear, Malgus says flatly, there will be no help if this goes wrong.  So feel free to say no. 

 

“What is the mission, my lord?” the senior most man asks on behalf of the group. 

 

“It’s a rescue mission to Ziost.  To the capital city.  It won’t be easy to get in or to get out.  And,” Malgus confesses, “I’m not sure where we are going.  This could get ugly fast.”

 

“So we’re not an advance team for a counterattack?” the lead trooper wants to understand.

 

“Correct.  We get in and grab the target and get out.  We need to be long gone before the full Sith invasion force launches and all Hell breaks loose on Ziost.”   That planet will be a battlefield within days and in a worst case scenario it becomes a local civil war as well.  Where a former-Republic-slave-turned-Imperial-citizen fits into that mix is anyone’s guess.  But Malgus fears that Eleena could turn out to be on neither side.  And that is a very precarious position. 

 

“Who are we extracting?  Is this some crony of the Emperor or a rich businessman?” the lead trooper asks plainly.  “What’s so special about this guy?”

 

It’s a fair question given he is asking these men to volunteer to risk their lives.  So Malgus responds, “This person has very little importance to anyone . . . except to me.  And the target is a ‘she,’ not a ‘he.’”  Malgus pointedly declines to elaborate.  “This mission won’t win you any medals, Troopers.  But it will earn my respect and my gratitude.”

 

The lead trooper nods slowly and then looks about questioningly to the group as a whole.  It’s a bunch of shrugs and nods.  “Okay.  Well then, that’s good enough for us, my lord.  When do we leave?”

 

“Now.”


	16. Chapter 16

The invasion of Ziost begins on a random morning when Eleena is at work.  Suddenly, without warning, the defensive shield gate that protects the planet is disabled and falls out of the atmosphere.  It partially breaks up as it descends but flaming remnants—some of them huge—rain down upon the capital city below where Eleena is.  It is a shocking cataclysm.  Everyone wonders aloud if it is some sort of epic malfunction.  All bemoan the obvious loss of life.  But no one, including she, suspects an invasion is imminent.

 

And then suddenly the skies of Ziost are full of Republic transports and warships ferrying troops and equipment to the ground.  For a few hours, the local Sith military mounts a feeble defense.  But they are overwhelmed by the incessant bombardment from above.  Stuck in her office building looking out, Eleena and her terrified colleagues have a front row seat to it all.  She and the others watch as disabled ships keep crashing down, some taking out entire buildings.  All Eleena can do is hope that she will remain safe where she is.  It is chaotic and random who gets killed and how.   Eleena feels helpless and terrified.   She and the majority of her colleagues opt to stay off the streets.  At a minimum, Eleena would prefer to die here with her work colleagues than to die alone.  Hours tick by and it’s all broadcast live on the holonet and that’s a bit surreal.  

 

After twelve hours, Ziost is overrun.  Republic speeder patrols whizzing by announce over loudspeakers that they are in charge.  The planet has been liberated and its citizens are now free.   Welcome to the Republic, the loudspeakers blare.  We come in peace.  Do what we say and no one gets hurt.

 

Eleena and her colleagues exchange incredulous looks.  No one can believe it.  Everyone says that the Sith will come to reclaim their world and Ziost will soon be a war zone. That has Eleena very scared.  So as soon as the fighting seems to have stopped for now, Eleena and everyone else head for home.  None of the public transports are running, so it’s a long walk in the dark.  Made longer still when Eleena takes a wrong turn.  But she sorts it out quickly and now starts to half-run the last few blocks home.  She is nervous and upset.  Things had been going so well, but now they have taken a dramatic turn for the worse. 

 

Unfortunately, they are about to get worse still.

 

“You there, freeze!”  A man’s voice rings out sharp and loud.  “Put your hands up!”

 

Eleena does as she is told as out from a doorway in front of her step two Republic soldiers on patrol.  They have blasters drawn.  While she can see the safety locks are on, neither blaster is set to stun. 

 

“Curfew started ten minutes ago, lady,” one of the soldiers barks.  “What are you doing out?”

 

“I live around the corner.  I’m just going home,” Eleena tells them nervously.  “I was at work when this started and I just want to go home.”

 

“She scans for a weapon,” the taller soldier tells his companion as he fiddles with a beeping gadget.   “Watch yourself.” 

 

“I have a blaster strapped to the inside of my left leg,” Eleena hastens to fess up.  “But it’s only for self-defense.” 

 

“Yep, here it is.”  The shorter soldier lifts her long skirt and plucks out the gun as Eleena keeps her hands to the sky.   “Start talking, woman,” he orders gruffly as he inspects the gun.

 

“I live alone.  It’s only for self-defense,” Eleena babbles.  “You can keep it, if you want.” 

 

“This is a military grade sidearm,” the man handling her weapon assesses it.  “You didn’t buy this from a shop.”  He pulls her skirt aside and observes, “This holster is military issue too.  Sith military at that.”

 

“I’m just an accountant,” Eleena says quickly.  She’s belatedly realizing that in an occupied warzone perhaps being armed doesn’t look so good.  “I work down the street as a clerk.” 

 

“Where’s your ID?” the first soldier demands.

 

“It’s in my bag,” Eleena shrugs to indicate the handbag on her shoulder and the man starts to fish around.  There’s not much in there, so her identification is easily located.  

 

“Eleena Daru.  Resident of Ziost,” the soldier reads.   “A recent one at that.   Where did you live before this?”  He’s comparing the holographic picture on the identification card against Eleena now.  “Yeah . . . that’s you.”   He hands the card over to his companion who starts scanning it with his gadget.

 

“I lived in Kaas City for a bit,” Eleena stammers.  And technically, that’s true.  She spent two days at Lord Malgus’ villa there once. 

 

“Yeah?” the man scanning her card asks.  “How come that information doesn’t turn up?  There is nothing here but a very recent Ziost address.  No other personal history.  Why is that?”

 

Because she is a former slave of the Republic with no other history of her own.  But Eleena, of course, avoids that explanation.  These are Republic soldiers, after all.  “I don’t know . . .   It must be a mistake.“ 

 

“I didn’t think there were many Twi’leks in the Empire,” the other man is skeptical.  “I thought the Sith weren’t much for aliens.  Go run her through our database,” he tells his colleague who is still holding her identification card.  “If she’s clean, we’ll confiscate the weapon and let her go.  But don’t let us catch you out after curfew again.  That’s a good way to get yourself shot.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Eleena says weakly.  “I’ll remember next time.”  She’s watching the man with the scanner closely, very worried about what he may find.   

 

“That’s a negative,” the man with the scanner decides.  He looks sharply to his companion.  “I’ll cover you while you cuff her.  We’re taking her in.”

 

“What?” the other man is surprised. 

 

“You heard me.  Code Delta.  I’ll call a transport.  We’re taking this one in.” 

 

“Wait—what does that mean??” Eleena stammers as she watches in horror as her hands are tightly bound at the wrists.

 

Neither man answers her.  Instead the shorter man tells his friend, “She’s got a date with Intel.  We might even get a promotion out of this.”

 

Five minutes later, a speeder pulls up and Eleena is loaded in for a trip to an office building that functions as a makeshift Republic command center.  There Eleena sits alone in a room in handcuffs for hours under armed guard before someone finally speaks to her.  It’s another Republic soldier, evidently of higher rank.  He doesn’t identify himself, he just starts firing off questions as a droid zooms about recording everything.

 

“Eleena Daru,” the man says her name quietly.  “You were foolish not to change your name after you defected.”

 

Defected?  They think she defected?  “I am a civilian citizen of the Empire—” Eleena protests, hoping she can cobble together a story she can keep straight.

 

The interrogator overrides her.  “Yes, you are a civilian citizen of the Empire with identification paperwork issued mere weeks ago.  Suspiciously close to when you ran away, slave.”

 

Slave.  He knows she was a slave.  Eleena’s heart sinks.  This isn’t good.

 

The man must see her reaction because he smiles nastily and steps closer.  “You were reported missing, Eleena Daru.  Not in the property records as usual, but by Republic Intelligence and local world law enforcement.   You didn’t get the usual runaway slave treatment because you disappeared the day your master and six other people on his country estate were found dead.”

 

“I didn’t kill Barrabas!” she automatically protests.  Maybe it’s an incriminating admission of sorts, but it’s the truth. 

 

“We know you didn’t kill him,” the man agrees.  “Barrabas and the rest were killed with a lightsaber by a Sith.  By Dark Lord who was evidently tipped off to a waiting ambush.” 

 

“I d-don’t know what you are talking about—"  Even to Eleena’s ears this sounds like a lie.

 

“Oh, I think you do.”  The man steps closer still.  “You betrayed your master Barrabas and the Republic, didn’t you?  All in exchange for freedom and a new life here with the Sith.” 

 

Yes, that is what happened from a certain point of view.  But Eleena isn’t going to admit that.  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she maintains again.

 

The interrogator ignores her.  Instead, he beckons a junior soldier in through the open door.  “Is the Jedi here yet?”  The soldier nods.  “Good.  Send her in.”

 

And now in walks a youngish human woman with close cropped dark hair wearing traditional Jedi robes.  Eleena’s eyes find the knight’s lightsaber bouncing at her hip.  This, then, is the counterpart enemy to a Dark Lord of the Sith.  Eleena was brought up to believe that the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice in the Republic, that they were the good guys.  But now, Eleena is not so sure.  This woman looks very hostile.  She crosses her arms and stares Eleena down.

 

“This is Elena Daru,” the man gestures to her.   “She is a runaway Republic slave from Barrabas Logistics who was picked up on the street here tonight.  Eleena Daru is the sole survivor of the Barrabas business a couple of months ago.”

 

“I remember that operation,” the Jedi woman nods thoughtfully.   “What a coincidence that Barrabas’ missing slave turns up here among the Sith.” 

 

“She was found with a Sith military sidearm strapped to her leg and a subspace comlink in her handbag tuned to a military frequency for the Sith.”

 

“Indeed?” the Jedi woman raises an eyebrow.  “Can you explain all of that, Eleena Daru?”

 

“The blaster is for self-defense,” Eleena sputters out.  “I live alone.  The weapon and the comlink were purchased here on Ziost.  Of course, they are Sith.”

 

“That’s a lie,” the Jedi woman assesses evenly.  She must be using the Force.  “Where did you get the equipment?  Tell us.”

 

Eleena looks down and confesses the truth.  There’s no point in lying to a Jedi any more than there is in lying to a Sith.  “They were a gift.”

 

“From whom?” the man demands.

 

“A friend,” Eleena answers through trembling lips.

 

“And what is that friend’s name?” the man follows up.

 

Eleena spends a long moment of miserable indecision before she lies again, “He was just some spacer I hitched a ride with.  I really can’t recall.”

 

“Yes, I bet you can’t,” the man snaps.  “I don’t need the Jedi here to tell me that’s a lie.   Are you a Sith agent, Eleena Daru?” he shouts in her face.

 

“No!”  Eleena cringes away.   “I told you that I’m an accountant.  That’s all.”

 

“Very interesting,” the Jedi woman observes with a frown.  “She thinks she’s telling the truth.” 

 

“So how about you tell us how you ran away?” the man presses.  “Just how did you come to be in Ziost?”

 

“I worked in the warehouse.  So after the master died, I hitched a ride with a spacer and ended up here . . . “ Eleena improvises an explanation on the fly.

 

“Another lie,” the Jedi announces.  “How about you just tell us the truth?” the woman complains.  “What really happened?”

 

And how exactly does Eleena explain herself without lying?  She can’t.  Not without revealing the role of Darth Malgus in everything.  But Eleena is no fool.  She knows that the moment she says Lord Malgus’ name, things will get much worse.  He is a very well-known enemy of the Republic.  “I don’t recall . . .”

 

“You don’t recall?” the man mimics, raising an eyebrow.  Everything about his demeanor is highly skeptical.  “After Barrabas himself was murdered, days later the Sith destroyed all of Barrabas’ business holdings.  All of the physical assets as well as the slaves and the employees.”  He shoots her a cold look.  “It was over three hundred innocent people, not counting our soldiers and ships.   But I think you knew that, didn’t you?”

 

No, she didn’t.  “E-Everyone?” Eleena asks in horror.  Lord Malgus had never told her about this retribution.  It sounds horrible.  Barrabas might have conspired with the Republic against the Sith, but his slaves and his employees hadn’t had any say in the matter.  They, like herself, were innocent.

 

“Yes, everyone,” the man confirms.  “Everyone who trusted you and worked with you is now dead.  It wasn’t enough for the Sith to kill Barrabas, they had to send a message too.  In the process, they also took out two Republic capital ships and a number of our troops.   All dead now.  Thanks to help from you, am I right?”

 

“N-No.”  Well, sort of.  She had alerted Malgus to the poison.  But she hadn’t even known that he was Sith at the time. 

 

“You know that it is a capital crime for a slave to kill her master, right?  That punishment includes being a co-conspirator and being an accessory after the fact,” the man reminds her with an ugly look.

 

The Jedi woman nods and chimes in, “Eleena Daru, you are in a lot of trouble so you might as well come clean.”  She is standing across the room with arms crossed watching very closely.  And is it Eleena’s imagination, or does she keep looking at her headband?

 

“You discovered the operation with Barrabas and tipped off the Sith, didn’t you?” the man is asking leading questions now.   “Then once you were safely away with the enemy, you gave them all the information they needed to plot a counterattack, right?  And your reward for it all was freedom and a new life here on Ziost.” 

 

“N-No.”  That’s not really how it happened.  And Eleena hadn’t even known there was a counterattack.

 

“Then can you explain why are you the only one left alive?  Alive and living among the Sith with newly issued identification?”  The man is in her face again talking loudly.  “Do you expect us to believe that is a coincidence?”

 

Eleena says nothing.   She’s scared and not sure what to do.  If she confesses the whole truth, they might not believe her.  And the truth makes her a runaway slave and a Sith collaborator in their view most likely.  Plus, if they learn that she lived for weeks in Darth Malgus’ private household?  Well, that wouldn’t be good.  No doubt they will start pressuring Eleena to betray him and that’s something she definitely will not do.  Not after all Lord Malgus has done for her.

 

“Is that a kyber crystal?” the Jedi woman speaks up now.  The interrogator man blinks at the apparent non-sequitur. 

 

“A what?” he asks.

 

The Jedi lady approaches Eleena.  She reaches out a hand to touch the large stone on her headband as Eleena recoils.  “It is, isn’t it?   And it’s huge.   Where did you get that?” 

 

“The headband was a gift,” Eleena answers truthfully.

 

“Let me guess.  It was a gift from the spacer friend whose name you can’t recall?”

 

“Y-Yes . . .” Eleena cringes as she answers.

 

“What’s a kyber crystal?” the man asks his colleague, sounding slightly annoyed at the distraction from the task at hand. 

 

“Kyber crystals are the Force-tuned crystals that power our lightsabers,” the Jedi answers. “They are not generally available and that one is huge.  It’s large enough to power a saberstaff and not just a regular sword,” the Jedi observes. 

 

“She doesn’t have the Force.  Does she?” the man looks to the Jedi for confirmation.  Then he turns back to Eleena, “Just what are you doing with a Jedi crystal, Ms. Daru?“

 

“Kyber crystals are not just used by the Jedi,” the woman says softly.  “The ones that have been bled red are used by the Sith.”

 

“It’s just a pretty stone for my headband, nothing more,” Eleena claims.  And it’s blue.  Can’t they see that it is blue?

 

“She’s found on a Sith world with a Sith sidearm, a Sith comlink, and a kyber crystal headband.  And she’s the sole survivor from an operation that failed because the Sith were tipped off.  This is all very suspicious,” the Jedi woman concludes.  She looks to the man and decides, ”I’m not sure what’s going on, but we’re not getting the whole truth.” 

 

“Yeah . . . “ he agrees.  “Well, don't worry.  My team will beat the truth out of her if they have to.”

 

Eleena looks down in dismay at this news but not before she sees the Jedi woman also make a face.

 

“Go on, keep your hands clean, Jedi,” the man gripes.  “I know you want no part of that.  We have our methods and then you can help us sift through what we’ve learned afterwards.”

 

Eleena is shaking now.  Her predicament is sinking in now and she has no idea how she’s going to get out of this. 

 

The Jedi woman seeks her quaking and presses the advantage.  “They would sell you out in a heartbeat, if the tables were turned.  Never trust a Sith.  Whoever you think you are protecting, it’s not worth it.   And there’s no jury in the Republic that won’t vote to convict you as an accomplice just based on the circumstantial evidence we have now.”

 

The man looks smug as he counters, “You forget that she’s a slave, Jedi.  She doesn’t get civil rights.  This one’s not entitled to a trial.  There will be no jury.”

 

Again, the Jedi woman makes a face.  “Then your best hope is to tell us all you know and cut a deal,” she tells Eleena.   “It might save your life.”

 

Eleena is fast losing her composure.  She’s starting to feel desperate.  “I didn’t kill anyone!  I didn’t give information to anyone!  I ran away, that’s all!” 

 

“To the Sith?” the man smirks.

 

“Where else would I go?” Eleena snaps back.  “The Empire was the safest choice and this was supposed to be a safe world.”  She looks away and lashes out in frustration.  “I can be free here!   In the Republic, I was a slave!”

 

“The Empire has slaves too,” the Jedi points out.  “The Sith have no moral authority over the Republic on slavery or anything else.  Far from it.”  The woman is indignant and righteous.  It’s very Jedi, Eleena thinks.

 

And it rubs her the wrong way.  As a slave, Eleena is very familiar with the rampant hypocrisies of life.  Of how peoples’ rhetoric rarely matches their deeds.  Do as I say, not as I do, seems to be the general way of things.  Inevitably, people fall short of their professed high ideals.  The rampant unfairness of life has made Eleena cynical like that.

 

And Eleena isn’t sure there is any moral authority in war anyhow.  Her harsh Republic master had tried to dupe her into being his accomplice and then she had watched a ship full of Sith men die.  But it sounds as if Lord Malgus’ retribution was just as cruel . . . maybe worse.  Is there a right and a wrong side of this war?  Eleena is not certain.  And even if there is, she’s not sure it matters.  Because her allegiance is to the Sith who helped her and took her in.  If she has loyalty to anything, it’s to a person and not to a cause.  It’s to Darth Malgus himself.  And so, if she has to suffer to protect him, she will.  And it’s not as if ratting him out will make things go any easier for her, Eleena suspects.

 

The interrogator now addresses his Jedi colleague and his words are ominous.  “It will be a day or so.  My team is busy right now processing all the local officials and military officers we’ve picked up.  But when they’re done, I’ll make sure they get around to her.” 

 

The Jedi again looks a bit uncomfortable as she shifts her weight side to side, but she nods agreement to the man.  “Be sure they ask about the headband.  I want to know about that.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

Ziost will be a bit of a challenge to sneak into, chiefly because the Republic will be expecting a Sith counterattack. That means the atmosphere will be closely monitored for anything resembling a Sith ship. But Malgus is betting that the Republic will be on the lookout for a giant armada of capital ships and small hit-and-run fighters. They won’t be looking for a lone cargo transport in disguise.  
Luckily, the giant planetary shield gate on Ziost was destroyed in the invasion. That means there is no single checkpoint to sneak through and no code clearance needed. It’s also helpful that they are still within the initial seventy-two hour window of the attack. Republic supply ships and transports of every type come and go from off-world around the clock. It’s a lot to keep track of without a central shield gate to organize and funnel things. Darth Malgus plans to take full advantage of that fact.

The goal will be to blend in with everyone else undetected. For that, they need a mid-sized transport that is convincingly Republic both when scanned and seen. That’s not a problem. Subterfuge and stealth being a hallmark of the Sith, they keep on hand a few stolen Republic ships for just this sort of thing. Malgus immediately commandeers one.

Inside the transport, he stuffs two large closed-cockpit speeders he will later abandon on Ziost. The plan is to land the transport in the wooded area that surrounds the capital city and then split up into two teams. One team heads to the coordinates of Leena’s work. The other team heads to her apartment. With any luck, she’ll be at one of those locations.

If he can, Malgus wants to avoid contacting Leena using the comlink Jose gave her. With the Republic jamming incoming and outgoing transmissions in a complete communications blackout, the comlink won’t work from this distance off-world. It should work on Ziost, but it will use a Sith military frequency that could attract attention since the Republic is likely on high alert for enemy chatter. Malgus has no desire to bring the might of the invasion force down upon him and his ten-man strike team. So, the comlink will be his last resort.

All in all, this rescue would be fairly easy, Malgus thinks, if only he knew where Leena is currently located. That’s the real issue and he can’t plan for it in advance. And if he gets to Zoist and finds that Leena is dead? Well . . . he’s hoping that’s not the case.

Malgus being Malgus, he never lets a strategic opportunity pass. He plans to collect as much surveillance as possible on the way in and out of Ziost. He drafts an intel officer for the mission and tasks him to sample all Republic com frequencies and to scan and record everything from overhead as the transport flies. At the very least, this effort will update what sketchy intel they have. The whole Sith military is about to go marching off to war with very little reliable information. It’s one more reason the current plan of action is ill conceived, Malgus thinks.

Within an hour, the equipment is assembled, his team is ready, and the transport lifts off. They leave from the Absolute, of course, where no one can see them go. It’s barely an hour in hyperspace from the rendezvous point to Ziost. Once the transport exits lightspeed, it enters a long line of incoming Republic military transports. His pilot flies casual, as instructed. Thankfully, the sketchy, still-being-put-in-place Republic security is fooled. From there, the landing is uneventful.

As they arrive, Malgus can’t help gloat a bit that his hunch is correct. In time, he will be proven right before his peers. Because from the looks of those cargo ships laden with prefab modular building materials and the sheer number of troop carriers touching down, it appears the Republic is here to stay. Ziost will have an army of occupation dug in for the long haul. This world will function as a strategic staging area for future attacks into the Empire, for sure.

Ziost’s capital city New Adasta itself looks a little rough. Based on his aerial view of the pockmarked urban landscape and the amount of debris in the streets, this invasion had definitely been opposed. The local men had tried their best and it shows. Good for them, Malgus thinks. May the Force be with their valiant Sith souls. He casts an experienced eye over the cityscape and decides that that the civilian death toll looks about like he expected. He’s seen worse. But once the Sith counterattack begins in a few days, it will likely increase exponentially. In days, this city will be in ruins. That’s why he needs to get Leena out now.

When they land, Malgus leaves the ship dark with the pilot and the intel guy inside. It will cost them extra time to warm up the craft to leave, but powering down is the safest choice to avoid detection. There’s no point in returning safely with Leena only to be ambushed by Republic troops who are lying in wait next to the discovered transport.

Once they are on the ground, his men split up and they set off in the speeders. Malgus is with the five-man group heading to Leena’s apartment. The other team heads to her company. To avoid detection, they will not enter the buildings through public means. They will hover outside, cut through a window, and enter directly into their location. It’s a tried-and-true method for everything from rescue operations like this to assassinations. It’s nothing these men haven’t done many times before.

Malgus has given his troopers scant information. They only know that they are looking for a tall blue Twi’lek woman named Eleena Daru who once worked as his accountant. That’s it. But if anyone thinks it unusual that a Sith Lord is going behind enemy lines on an occupied world to rescue a former employee, no one speaks up. Malgus is grateful for that discretion. He doesn’t really want to explain anything about this mission to them or anyone else.

The apartment is a disappointment. Leena is not there. His team splits up to poke around her living space to look for clues to her whereabouts. Everything is meticulously neat, down to the household droid that is charging in the corner of the kitchenette. Leena’s limited possessions are carefully placed in drawers and her small wardrobe hung with care in the closet. Even the datapad by her bedside looks to have been arranged with pride. And just seeing her things makes Malgus miss Leena in a way he hasn’t in weeks. It ups the ante for this mission even more.

“She lives alone, I take it? It doesn’t look like she’s been here very long,” his lead trooper surmises from their search.

“Three months,” Malgus answers tersely. He starts rifling through her wardrobe of dresses to determine which one is missing. “Tomorrow she’ll be gone three months.”

The blue dress is missing. The plain one Jose bought her first. The headband is gone too. She’s probably wearing it, Malgus thinks. Since he gave it to her, he’s never seen Leena without the headband, even in their training sessions. Malgus had no idea that headband would be such a satisfying gift to give. He’ll probably be giving Serevin’s daughter a king’s ransom in jewelry as a wedding present. Lady Cassis will expect it as her due. But will his wife treasure those baubles the way Leena does her headband? Something tells him no.

“She’s wearing the blue dress. Tell the other team that,” he orders gruffly. “They are looking for a blue Twi’lek woman in a plain blue dress.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Could she be staying with a friend?” the lead trooper at his side asks.

“Possibly.”

“Maybe with a boyfriend?”

“There is no boyfriend.” Malgus looks up now as two more troopers enter the bedroom. “Did you find a gun?” he asks. “She has a snub nose blaster.”

“No, Sir. The living room is clean. No clues. There’s nothing in there to go on.”

Malgus nods glumly. “The gun’s not here either. But that’s good. She’s probably wearing it in her ankle holster,” he thinks aloud.

The two newly arrived troopers exchange looks. “I don’t get it. Why does an accountant wear a blaster?” one asks.

“She’s a woman living alone in a strange city. That’s why,” Malgus glares at him. “She’s a young and beautiful Twi’lek and that gives men ideas.” He looks around in anxious frustration. “Blast it, Leena, where are you?” he frowns. This is a big city and she could be anywhere.

Malgus checks in with the other team at Leena’s workplace. They have come up empty as well. But the good news is that the offices of Leena’s accounting firm are undamaged from the invasion. That is a great relief. Leena’s firm, like most of Ziost, is closed for the day. All citizens seem to be holed up in their homes awaiting what happens next. All citizens except Leena, that is.

Could she really be staying with a friend? There are very few civilians on the street, so Malgus doubts that she is out and about. He eyes the comlink in his hand. It has the frequency and codes copied from Jose’s original. Leena likely has the counterpart comlink on her since no one found it among her things. Using the comlink is the next logical choice. But still, it’s risky . . .

So Malgus first tries locating her in the Force. It’s a long shot, but he’ll give it a try. He inhales deeply and focuses. The sights and sounds of Ziost fall away as his mind searches for something familiar amid this city of strangers. Fear . . . he senses rampant fear around him. The fear of a conquered people who don’t know what’s coming next. Hatred. Yes . . . there is burning hatred against the invaders who one morning appeared to murder their neighbors and ruin their property. Their loud speakers mounted on speeder patrols blast sentiments of freedom and democracy. It’s the typical tone-deaf bluster. Only Republic elites are foolish enough to think that anyone wants to be liberated from their comfortable, peaceful, prosperous life, Malgus thinks.

But Leena . . . where is Leena . . . He closes his eyes and conjures up the mental memory of her presence on his space station. How he always knew in the back of his mind that she was there. All living beings leave an imprint in the Force and Force-users have the strongest, brightest imprints of all. But you don’t have to be a Force-user to catch the attention of Darth Malgus’ mind. And you don’t have to be a Force-user to leave a distinctive imprint. For it is as much the relationship between him and the other person as it is the magnitude of their imprint itself. The closer he is to someone—be it from habitual physical proximity or from emotional closeness—the easier it is to recognize them in the Force.

Leena . . . where is Leena . . . He sinks deeper and deeper into the Force. He has decades of practice at this sort of thing. Yes . . . she is here. He can feel her presence. He concentrates further. She is definitely alive. She is alive but she is in pain. Lots and lots of pain. The sharpness of the emotion instantly commands his attention.

“She’s hurt . . . ” he says aloud.

“Hurt as in we need to go break into the hospital?” his team leader wants to know.

“No,” Malgus says as mental insight rushes up to him with awful certainty. He keeps his eyes closed as he concentrates harder. He clamps down tight on Lena’s mind somewhere in the Force. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be able to find her from this unknown distance. But her distress is screaming out to him from afar. She’s in pain and she’s afraid. Very afraid. And somehow, it involves him.

“Was she injured in the invasion?”

“No,” Malgus growls. “Someone is physically hurting her now.” He feels her mind dazed for a moment as she absorbs a blow. “Someone is beating her.” He latches on to Leena’s fear and her pain. He channels her emotions, making them his. If he could, he would take away her distress. But he cannot. All he can do is use it to tighten his grip on her mind in the Force.

“Why would someone want to hurt your former accountant, my lord?” the team leader beside him thinks out loud.

“She’s a runaway slave.”

“A slave is an accountant?”

“This one is.”

There it is again. He feels Leena absorb another blow. She hates the man who is doing this to her. She hates all he represents. She distrusts his empty promises and she’s tired of his preachy rhetoric. Yes. . . insight flashes up again and Malgus’ eyes snap open. “The Republic has her.” He blinks and a rare, very uncharacteristic curse slips out, “Fuck! The Republic found her.”

His heart sinks. This isn’t good.

And it makes no sense to the man at his side. “Why would the Republic be chasing down an escaped slave in the middle of an invasion?” the lead trooper wonders out loud. The comment gets Malgus’ attention. He watches as the man’s eyes wander over to the open wardrobe with costly dresses fit for a queen spilling out. Understanding dawns. “Your former accountant . . . your . . . she’s not your . . . aww, shit! It’s you! They’re hurting her because of you—” The man shuts up immediately, clearly fearing he’s said too much. This man, like the rest of the strike team members, is clearly nervous around his new commander. “Forget I said that, my lord.” He drops his eyes immediately to the floor.

But Malgus is barely registering what the man says. His focus is elsewhere as he makes a snap decision to use the comlink. “Trace this,” Malgus orders as he depresses the button to activate a call. There is a moment of heavy static before the connection is made.

“H-Hello?” It’s Leena’s voice sounding hesitant, throaty, and scared.

“Leena?”

Silence. Is the connection broken? Malgus hurries to crank up the volume on the comlink so he can hear. But all he hears is a man’s voice sounding muffled as if picked up in the background.

“This is your contact? Good. Very good. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Malgus’ eyes narrow and flash yellow. Yes, it’s as he feared. The Republic has her.

More silence.

Then, the man’s muffled voice speaks again. “Well, talk to him! Keep him talking while we trace the com.”

Two can play at this game, the Sith thinks. He nods at the lead trooper who has already begun tracing the com from their end. Malgus keeps talking. They need all the information they can get about what’s happening and where she is. “Leena, I’ve come for you. Where are you?”

And now she speaks up. “No! Hang up! Please, hang up! It’s a—“ Her words cut off abruptly at the sound of her absorbing a blow. Her ugly exhaled grunt is grotesquely magnified by the very loud comlink volume level. She is silenced momentarily. Then, he can hear her groan as she pants fast through pain.

“Leena? Leena? Where are you?” He’s going to kill that guy who hit her, Malgus vows. Slowly and painfully, if he gets the chance. “Talk to me.”

Leena starts screaming now good and loud, “It’s a trap! It’s a trap! Don’t come! Leave me!”


	18. Chapter 18

Eleena has spent the last day and a half in a makeshift cell in an office building waiting for her turn at questioning.  The anticipation of the interrogation has turned out to be slightly worse than the experience itself.  So far, at least.  She and a dozen or so local government officials and Sith army officers are being held here.  Since it’s a building set up for office space and not as a prison, there is a lot of interaction.  Eleena and the other prisoners all eat communally twice a day in a conference room.  She is the only woman and the only alien.  And apparently, she is the last on the interrogation list.  For at each passing meal, more and more of her fellow prisoners turn up looking battered and bruised.  The walls here are not too thick so she hears occasional hollers and outright screams from down the hall. 

 

Finally, it was her turn.

 

_Who is your contact?  I want a name.  Answer me, woman!_

 

_Did he approach you or did you approach him?  We know you have a Sith contact.  There’s no point in hiding it._

 

The interrogator is a clean-cut man with a handsome face and a smooth voice.  He also has quick fists.  He works with a very young assistant who mostly remains silent as far as Eleena can tell.   There is a droid recording the proceedings and that Jedi woman from before pops in and out of the room looking alternatively impatient and bored. 

 

_What was the means of communication with your contact?  Was it just this comlink?_

 

_Did you ever meet your contact in person?  We need a description.  Give us a name.  We’ll start with a name and go from there._

 

The interrogator likes to ask questions again and again, rephrasing them differently in an attempt to trip her up.  Eleena’s solution to that dilemma is simply not to respond.  That makes him frustrated and that’s when he hits.  The interrogator says that he will stop hitting if she will just tell the truth, but Eleena isn’t fool enough to believe that.   This guy won’t stop hitting until he gets everything he wants.  And once she starts talking, Eleena knows that he will only want more.  So, her plan is to stonewall him and just endure the pain until he gives up.

 

_Did you meet with any Sith other than your contact?  Did you meet any of their Dark Lords?_

 

_Did you ever spend time on one of their ships?  What can you tell us about their military?_

 

She’s been a slave her whole life.  She’s been yelled at before.  Off and on, she’s taken some hits.  Sometimes it was punishment for a mistake, sometimes it was just the whim of her supervisor when he was in a bad mood, and sometimes it was when she refused a man’s attentions and things got rough.  That experience with violence has made Eleena Daru a tough girl.  She knows how to take a punch.  To stay as relaxed as possible and to move with the hit.  To breathe through the pain.  So far, this interrogator guy mostly likes to backhand her.  It’s a lot of smacks and slaps to the face.  Strangely enough, it’s like he’s uncomfortable giving a woman’s face a full-on punch.  However, he has no problem twisting her lekku and hitting her in the gut.  Eleena is certain that beneath her dress her midsection is black and blue.  But it’s bearable so far.

 

_Who is your contact?  This will go a lot easier if you will just cooperate.  You’ve got a pretty face, Eleena Daru.  I bet you’d like to keep it that way._

 

She remembers Lord Malgus once telling her that every hurt and every pain he feels makes him darker and more powerful.  And she vows to do the same.  Every hit she takes just strengthens her resolve to resist.  She doesn’t owe these Republic assholes an explanation.  She’s not upset by them calling her a traitor and attempting to shame her.   And what are they thinking when they attempt to shame a slave?  When you are as lowly as Eleena is in most people’s eyes, there is no shame.  And even if she had conspired with the Sith in exchange for her freedom—where’s the shame in that?  All this Republic bullshit about freedom and the pursuit of happiness never extended to her.  So screw this guy and his assistant and that creepy Jedi woman who keeps wandering in.  Eleena plans to take her hits and keep her silence until this trio gives up.

 

_I grow tired of asking, so this will be the last time.  Who is your contact?  I need a name!_

 

_You start giving us some useful information and we’ll bring a medic in here with some bacta patches.   Only you can make the pain stop._

 

Then, out of the blue, her confiscated comlink on the table starts buzzing.  It gets everyone’s attention fast.

“Oh,” breathes the interrogator in surprise.  “Excellent!”  He looks over to his assistant and gestures to some equipment across the room.  “Trace this.  Let’s see who her contact is.”  

 

Eleena swallows hard now, fearing when the comlink is answered it will be unsuspecting Jose.  Jose will drop Lord Malgus’ name, the secret will be out, and things will get much worse.

 

The comlink keeps buzzing loudly to indicate an incoming call.  “Answer it!” the interrogator bellows at her as he takes up the comlink and waves it in her face. “Answer.  Now!” he hisses as he gives her left lekku a hard yank.  Then he depresses the thumb button to activate the connection. 

 

There is a long moment of heavy static.  The assistant from across the room speaks up.  “That fuzz is from the communications blackout.  This call must be coming from on-world if it’s getting through.”

 

The interrogator shoves the comlink even closer to her face and Eleena takes the hint.  “H-Hello?” she manages.  Her voice sounds croaky and lispy to her ears, but maybe that’s due to her split lip.

 

“Leena?”   She instantly recognizes Lord Malgus’ voice.  No one says her name like he does.  It’s like a growl and a caress.  Eleena closes her eyes for a moment, uncertain what to do next.   She dares not reveal who this is. 

 

“This is your contact?   Good.  Very good.  Now, we’re getting somewhere.”

 

Defiant Eleena says nothing. 

 

“Well, talk to him!” the interrogator orders in a harsh whisper.  “Keep him on while we trace the com.”

 

Still, Eleena says nothing.  She refuses to implicate or entrap the Sith.

 

And so, it’s Lord Malgus who speaks next.  “Leena, I’ve come for you.  Where are you?”

 

He’s come for her . . . Lord Malgus himself has come for her.  Eleena’s heart leaps at this news and then sinks.  Because it’s too late.  “No!  Hang up!  It’s a—”   A hard smack across her face silences her momentarily.  But Eleena perseveres, screaming into the comlink, “It’s a trap!   It’s a trap!  Don’t come!  Leave me!”  She won’t be intimidated by these people and she won’t lure Lord Malgus here to his death.

 

“You’re in trouble.”  It’s a statement, not a question.  “Hang in there, Leena,” Malgus tries to cheer her up.

 

And it’s wasting precious seconds.  Eleena hollers at him now, “Hang up!  Please, hang up!  They are tracing this!”

 

“Have we got it?”  The assistant across the room nods yes.  “Good.” The interrogator looks triumphant now.  He jerks the comlink away from her face and now he starts to boast into it.  “Whoever you are, we’ll find you.  You can run, but you’re stuck on-world and there’s nowhere on Ziost where you can hide.  Your slave is in Republic custody now.  She’ll crack soon enough.  She won’t be able to protect you forever.  And then we’ll get your name and your description and we will come for you.  And when we have you, we will get your contact and we will keep going up the chain all the way to Darth Malgus himself.  We know Malgus was behind that Barrabas business.”

 

There is a moment of silence before Eleena hears the Sith lord’s slow drawl in reply.  “Malgus is the one you want to meet?  I can arrange that.”  The connection is interrupted by another burst of static.  And then the com abruptly ends.

 

The Jedi woman walks into the room again now.  “Did I miss anything?”

 

“Yes.”  Her interrogator is triumphant.  “The contact just gave Eleena a call on the comlink.  He’s here on-world looking for her.”

 

The Jedi brightens.  “Did you trace the com?”

 

“Of course.”  The interrogator looks to his assistant.  “Where is the location?”  The man rattles off a series of number coordinates and then phrases it in terms of a street address.  Eleena recognizes it as her apartment building across town.  Lord Malgus must have called from her home.   The assistant now plays back the recorded conversation for the Jedi to hear.  Then he leaves to relay orders to send a squad to check things out.

 

“The contact will be long gone by the time we get there.  He’s probably gone now,” the Jedi observes.  “And now that he knows she’s in custody, he will dump the comlink.”  She shoots the interrogator some side eye.  “That was a stupid move by you to goad him at the end.”

 

“He confirmed that Malgus was the one involved.”

 

“Not really.  But I suppose you could interpret it that way,” she allows.  Her attention is back on Eleena now.  The Jedi gives her a pointed look now as she crosses her arms and gloats.  “I hope this has convinced you that it’s time to talk.  We have all the proof of your guilt that we need now.  Eleena Daru, treason is some pretty serious stuff.”

 

The interrogator smirks at Eleena as he piles on.  These two don’t even bother with a good cop/bad cop routine.  They are strictly two bad cops.  “Don’t take false hope from that call.  Your contact might have come back for you once, but he can’t help you now.”

 

And that’s when Eleena breaks her silence.  “He will,” she says softly.  “He’s loyal like that.”

 

The Jedi shakes her head and condescends.  “Never trust a Sith, Ms. Daru.  If you hear nothing I say, hear that.  Never trust a Sith.  They are evil and they always betray you in the end.”

 

“Yeah?” Eleena retorts.  “Well, from my point of view the Jedi are evil.”  And such a letdown too.  This woman is a far cry from the Jedi heroes she heard stories about as a child.  And something about this woman gets under Eleena’s skin.  Maybe it’s because she seems to disdain the interrogator’s violent methods even if she has no problem with his results.   This Jedi seems content to let others do her dirty work.  Cynically, Eleena wonders if it would be different if she were a Republic citizen and not a slave.

 

The Jedi woman is offended.  She pushes off the wall she’s lounging against and stalks forward.  Her tone is ice.  “If you think the Jedi are evil, then you are lost, Ms. Daru.  And you’re completely on your own.  Now that the Sith know that you have been picked up, you might even be a target for them.  More than once we’ve seen them break into our prison facilities not for a rescue attempt but to take a would-be informant out.” 

 

Eleena just looks away.  “He’s not going to kill me.”

 

The Jedi ignores her.  She asks to hear the com call recording again and she and the interrogator start bickering on what to do next.  They are interrupted by the returning assistant who bursts in.  There was a squad of troops nearby the traced address and they were there within two minutes, Eleena overhears.  Then the assistant hands around a datapad with pictures for the interrogator and the Jedi to see.

 

“The contact cut his way in?  He didn’t break a lock or have a key?”  The interrogator is befuddled.

 

“Oh yeah,” the Jedi shrugs.  “This is typical Sith.  Their special ops do this sort of thing.  Usually, it’s the hallmark of an assassination,” she gives Eleena a pointed look.  “Looks like I’m right.  Your contact was looking for you, but it wasn’t to help you, it was to kill you.  Once we invaded, you instantly became a potential liability for them.”  The Jedi holds the datapad so Eleena can see.  “See that?  Your contact cut his way in through the window.  He wanted to get in and out without being seen.  That way he wouldn’t be on security cam footage in the building lobby and elevator after your body was found.”

 

Eleena refuses to believe that.  If Lord Malgus wanted her dead, he would have killed her long ago.   He would never have risked coming to Ziost to find her.

 

“Yep,” the Jedi woman warns again smugly.  “It’s time to side with us.  You heard it here first:  you should never trust a Sith.”

 

Suddenly, there is a loud hissing, cracking noise from behind Eleena across the room.  She whirls in her seat as best she can.  Eleena watches for a few seconds with everyone else as the far window of the office tower splits in two and falls into the room.  From behind it emerge two Sith troopers followed by Darth Malgus himself. 

 

“It’s ---it’s---him!”

 

The shocked interrogator recognizes the Sith Master military genius and Eleena does too.  Malgus is wearing his distinctive battle armor complete with a half-mask with red lights.  Eleena knows the mask to be a respirator now and not a posturing tool for effect.  They are high in the building on an upper floor and the breeze from the broken window lifts his cape.  It billows behind the Sith as he stands his ground, a saber hilt in each hand. 

 

“You’re not the only one who can trace a com call,” Malgus announces as his eyes rake over her.  “Leena, are you alright?”

 

As she nods yes, the interrogator’s assistant now finds his tongue.  “Wait—this tail head slave is with Darth Malgus himself?   How did we miss this??”

 

“Sith, you’re a dead man,” the Jedi woman hisses as her saber leaps into her hand to ignite bright green.

 

That’s the cue for the Sith troopers standing beside Malgus’ to open fire.  With an expert shot to the head, one drops the assistant to the floor.  The other trooper catches the interrogator in the chest as the man lunges away to flee.  The troopers aim next for the Jedi when the Sith shoos them off.

 

“The Jedi is mine to kill,” Malgus decrees, his words reverberating from beneath his half-mask.  He waves a hand in Eleena’s direction and her handcuffs fall open and clatter to the floor.  “Leena, grab those men’s sidearms and get in a speeder,” he orders her.  “I want you armed.”

 

She nods.  “There are other prisoners down the hall.  Local officials and officers from the garrison here.  They were interrogated too.”

 

“How many?”

 

“Twelve or fifteen, I think,” she answers.

 

Malgus nods and instructs his troopers, “Get everyone who can walk to the speeders.  Take as many of ours as we can fit.  But quick!  We’ve got five minutes tops before downstairs knows we’re here.”

 

And now, as if to underscore his point, two Republic guards burst in the door to investigate the two blaster shots they heard.  As the guards stumble onto a Sith Lord and his troopers, their eyes widen and their mouths hang low.  Their moment of stunned disbelief is what kills them.  For those same crackshot Sith troopers take both men down before either can pump off a shot. 

 

“Get going!” Malgus orders, “There will be more.”  The Sith troopers start heading for the door and two more men from the speeder follow them.  And now, it’s just the Jedi woman, Eleena, and Lord Malgus in the room. 

 

“I’ll make this quick for you too, Jedi,” the Sith drawls as he twirls his sword. 

 

“Oh, I don’t think so.”  The woman is unimpressed as she rolls her eyes.  “Sith Lords are my specialty.” 

 

“Really?”  Malgus sneers.  “Look at the way you swing that thing,” he scoffs.  “Your saber form is far too sloppy for that to be true.  These are elegant weapons, not meat cleavers, Jedi.  Or are you a Padawan still?”

 

“However I swing it, it will kill you just as well,” the Jedi retorts and she and Malgus start to exchange blows.    

 

Eleena watches warily as she hastens to follow orders and crosses the room.  Gingerly, she rolls over the body of the interrogator’s assistant to grab at the pistol strapped to his hip.  It’s fully charged and looks like it’s never been fired.  She takes off the safety as across the room Malgus and the Jedi keep alternating between taunts and blows.   The sound of their swords crackling and striking fills the room. 

 

And now two troopers reappear leading prisoners into the speeders hovering outside.  It quickly becomes a steady stream of wounded and still-handcuffed men as more Sith troopers alight from the hovering speeders to help out.  Malgus, Eleena sees, has the Jedi hemmed in to keep a pathway from the door to the broken window clear. 

 

The conference room they are in is large but it is dominated by two tables in the middle.  In these confines, Lord Malgus and the Jedi woman are moving around fast to circle one another.  They are far too close to the fallen interrogator whose blaster Eleena is supposed to steal.  So she nabs one from the body of a fallen Republic trooper by the door.  Leena stands guard by the broken window and busies herself assisting the rescued men into the speeder.  She keeps one eye on the duel.  As the blur of red and green dances before her eyes, Eleena can do nothing but keep clear. 

 

The Jedi woman throws up her free hand towards Malgus repeatedly again and again, but it doesn’t seem to do anything.  She is clearly growing frustrated.  Lord Malgus mostly seems to be toying with the Jedi and biding his time while the rescued prisoners file past.  Once one speeder is full, it takes off.   When a minute later the last of the prisoners boards the second speeder, Lord Malgus appears to have had enough.  With a flick of his wrist, he throws the Jedi woman hard against the far wall.  Her body makes a soft thudding sound from the impact before she begins to fall.  

 

Malgus stalks forward with sword raised to finish the job.  But Eleena is the one closest and she has a clear line of sight.  She raises her stolen blaster, takes instant aim, and fires.   Eleena gets two shots into the Jedi before she even hits the ground.  The impact of the push and the shots loosen the Jedi’s grip on her sword.  It deactivates and rolls towards Eleena.   She kicks it out of the way. 

 

“He gave you the crystal, didn't he?"  the Jedi women gasps out as she lays on the ground clutching at her gaping side.

 

Eleena walks forward, looks down, and meets her eyes.  “Yes.  Lord Malgus took it from a dead Jedi.  Like he’s going to take your crystal now.  Maybe I’ll wear it on my headband too.”

 

“You may kill me but you’ll never win,” the Jedi vows as she grimaces in extreme pain.  “The Sith will never rule the galaxy.  The Dark Side will lose in the end.”

 

Eleena responds truthfully, “That doesn’t much matter to me.”  Her loyalty isn’t to a cause, it’s only to one man.  The man who today had come back for her. 

 

The Jedi woman’s eyes narrow now.  "You’re not just a slave, are you?"

 

"I was never just a slave,” Eleena snaps back.  “But Lord Malgus was the first person to ever see that.”  She is a person and she is important, if only to herself.  Eleena raises her blaster again and takes careful aim.  “Did you think you would get martyred by a Sith Lord?  Well, guess again.  How’s it feel, Jedi, to be killed by a slave who you disdain?"  Eleena’s face twists into an ugly look as she opens fire.

 

All of Eleena’s frustration, fear, and pain find their focus now.  She is bitter, very bitter over this Jedi woman and all that she represents.  The high-minded culture that exalts freedom and self-determination for the galaxy but denies it to some.  The lofty rhetoric of equal justice that likewise does not apply to all.  And the promises of peace that fall flat now that Eleena has experienced Republic military aggression firsthand.  Ziost was Eleena’s chance at a fresh start, a new life, a future she could decide for herself.  This was freedom and opportunity courtesy of the much maligned Sith.  It was all going perfectly until this woman and her Republic brethren had showed up to conquer and ruined it all.  Eleena hates her for it.  So when she starts shooting, she doesn’t stop.  Again and again, she fires. 

 

This isn't a battle droid in the training room.  This is a real person who is dying gruesomely.  But Eleena can’t summon the empathy to care.  It’s like a switch has been flipped and all limits and inhibitions are gone.  Even when the woman is clearly dead, Eleena does not let up.  Because this overkill just feels so damn good.  So, again and again, she fires as tears begin to stream down her face.

 

If circumstances were different, Eleena knows she might have been anything.  If she had the opportunities and rights others take for granted, there would have been no stopping her.  She might have learned her trade with real educational credentials that would garner respect.  She might have an intact family who would love her and she could love back.  She might have a normal life with friends and coworkers and maybe even a husband and children to call her own.  But no one marries a slave.  No matter what she achieves in life in the future, Eleena knows that she will always bear the defining label slave inside and out.  Her species alone pretty much guarantees that.  Still, her life on Ziost was the closest she could come to transcending her past and this Jedi woman and her precious Republic had ruined that.  Does this woman understand what they have taken from her?   They took the very freedom and opportunity they purport to represent.   Eleena is indignant and enraged that her chance at a happy ending is lost.  Yes, she can start again somewhere else.  But in the moment, all Eleena feels is visceral hatred.  She wants payback.  She wants revenge.  She wants this woman to suffer like she has suffered.

 

The Jedi woman’s body is a charred skeleton now, barely recognizable with its melted flesh.  It is a horrific testament to Eleena’s violent excess.   The blaster soon runs out of charge and it no longer fires.  But still, Eleena holds it outstretched. 

 

From behind, she feels Lord Malgus lay a heavy gloved hand on her shoulder.  “Leena,” he rumbles softly. “It looks like you got her.”

 

And that’s what brings her back to reality.  She nods slowly and throws down her empty gun.  She stares numbly at what she has done.

 

A single Sith trooper is standing at the window.  He’s very anxious to depart.  “Even without an alarm, they certainly heard that, my lord.”

 

“Well done, Leena,” Lord Malgus puts a comforting arm around her and leans in.  “Now, it’s time to go.”  The Sith raises a hand and calls the dead Jedi’s lightsaber to him with the Force.  Then, he retrieves the comlink and Eleena’s headband lying on the table. 

 

For her part, Eleena starts limping painfully toward the window exit.  But it’s slow going.  For as the immediate danger passes and the rush of adrenaline subsides, Eleena suddenly becomes aware of just how hurt she is.  Her cheek and lip are throbbing and she’s fairly certain that she has cracked ribs.  And maybe it’s her gulping tears, but suddenly it is very hard to draw her breath.  Malgus must see that she is struggling and will slow them down.  The Sith solves this by sweeping her up high into his arms.  He leaps with Eleena into the overcrowded speeder.  Then, they are gone. 


	19. Chapter 19

Getting out of Ziost turns out to be far harder than getting in.  The Republic discovers the prison break shortly after the second speeder with Leena and the remaining prisoners pulls away.  It’s a vicious firefight and a swift chase through the city, but they manage to make it to the hidden transport outside the city.  Luckily, the ship is warmed up and ready to go thanks to the prior arrival of the first speeder minutes earlier.  But all of Ziost is now on high alert.  It doesn’t take long until their transport ruse is detected.  The stolen ship has barely taken off from the city’s outskirts when scrambled Republic fighters are incoming with guns blazing.  

 

Suddenly, things look grim.

 

The slow moving, unarmed, and minimally shielded transport is ill-prepared to make a run for it.   The pilot does the best he can, but this cargo craft was not designed for evasive maneuvers.   After two stomach churning spiral rolls and a hard hit to the aft deflector shield, Malgus decides that conventional warfare methods are not going to cut it.  It’s time for the Force.  Let them get close, he tells his sweating pilot.  The man nods and does his best as Darth Malgus summons the full power of the Dark Side.  

 

The Sith Master quiets his mind and starts with fear.  For fear is the path to the Dark Side.  Darth Malgus begins to inhale the mental anguish from the millions of scared citizens hiding in their homes in the conquered city below.   Next, he absorbs the physical pain of the dozen tortured and injured men he has rescued.  He feeds off their anger and indignance at their treatment.  And now, he recalls the unrestrained violence unleashed by Leena on their Jedi foe.  Leena’s rage had been so pure and so strong.  That Jedi woman’s suffering had been revenge at its most sweet. 

 

The hate swells in Malgus.  It pulsates through his mind, burgeoning as the enemy fighters draw closer still.  He is almost there.  He just needs a little more to tip him over into the abyss of Darkness.  So Malgus thinks now of Leena lying propped against the wall in the back of the transport.   Her bright eyes dull with pain and nearly swollen shut, her expression blank beneath her many bruises.  He is certain that she has at least one broken rib, maybe more.  How dare they do this to her, Malgus seethes.  

 

This primal, possessive outrage is just the final push he needs.  Darth Malgus takes a deep breath and releases a momentous Force shockwave.  A wave of pure Dark energy releases from the Sith’s mind in an explosion of hate.  It ripples outward and consumes everything within its radius, obliterating their Republic pursuers instantly.   For what they say is true:  do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side.  The Force creates, but it also destroys.

 

The pilot gapes at this feat as Malgus stumbles back against the cockpit wall.  “Get us out of here NOW!” he pants.  The jump coordinates have long been set, so they just have to make it to space.  But now Republic ships are heading down from orbit to cut them off.   It’s a race to see if they can intercept.  But the Force is with them and the moment the stolen transport breaks free of Ziost’s atmosphere, the pilot punches for light speed.  In an instant, they are gone. 

 

Everyone, including Malgus, exhales a sigh of relief.  He doesn’t have more than one Force shockwave in him a day.  He is very glad that worked. 

 

The Sith rides the rush of the Force for a few moments before he settles back into equilibrium.  And then, he gets back to work, sifting through the surveillance intel that was collected during the hunt for Lena.  It’s good.  Very good.  The intel guy managed to get detailed shots of everything from the incoming supply convoys to the artillery battery positions being erected around the city and in the countryside.  And thanks to the raid to collect Leena, they have the current location of the enemy headquarters.  They even have shots of equipment that looks suspiciously like the beginnings of a new planetary shield gate being prepared for launch.   Yes, it definitely looks as though the enemy is making themselves at home on Ziost.

 

“Well done,” Malgus commends the nervous looking Intel officer he had conscripted into duty.  This man, like the rest of the _Absolute_ ’s crew, is new to his command and uncertain how to please his new Sith Master.

 

“There’s more, Sir,” the eager to please corporal nods fervently as he hands over another datapad.  “I recorded Republic data and audio transmissions while I waited back at the ship for you to return.  There’s a lot here to wade through and some of it is still encrypted, but it’s real-time eavesdropping on their command and control structures.  We need to get a team of analysts on this data immediately, Sir.  It could be a goldmine.”

 

“How did you do this undetected?” Malgus asks.  He’s impressed.

 

“I’m best at hacking, Sir.  It’s my thing.”

 

“Very good,” Malgus nods his approval.  He decides that he will let all this valuable intelligence be his calling card in advance of his return to the Sith flagship.  Let Darth Adraas and his cronies chew on this, Malgus thinks with a satisfied sneer.  “Send all the data you collected to Darth Angral marked highest priority. Tell him what it is and what to do with it,” Malgus orders.  The Intel guy is right that the Sith high command needs to factor this new information into their counterattack strategy.   There is no time to waste. 

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

The lead strike team trooper appears now with a list of the rescued prisoners and their job titles on a datapad.   Malgus scans it and realizes that he has just rescued Ziost’s surviving local administrators and several of its higher-ranking military officers from the local garrison.   Excellent.  These men probably have in-depth knowledge of the major Ziost cities and they had a front row seat for the invasion.  There are no better people to help interpret the new intel than these local men.   They are the perfect advisors for the counterattack.

 

“The Ziost system general is dead,” the lead trooper reports as Malgus reads the list in more detail, “So are three of his four direct reports.  The fourth guy is in the back.  He’s the one with the broken arm.  He’s the ranking survivor.”

 

“We should have brought a medic,” Malgus observes as he puts aside the datapad to walk into the back of the transport.  He wants to meet this surviving Lieutenant Colonel Oswald.

 

“We have three trauma kits and we’re spreading the bacta and painkillers around.  No one is critical, Sir.  But they are all a bit rough.  Especially the military guys who all look to have been injured before they were captured and interrogated.”

 

Yes, he sees that.  Malgus looks over the dozen battered looking men who crowd the transport.  “Lieutenant Colonel Oswald?”  Malgus stops before the one with the broken arm clutched awkwardly to his side.   The man also has several flashburn grazes from blaster shot near-misses.

 

“My lord.”  

 

The man makes to stand but Malgus waves him off. “At ease.  Save your strength, soldier.”

 

“I didn’t talk,” the man sputters.   “On my honor, I did not talk.  None of us did.”

 

Malgus agrees.  “It shows.   That arm looks like you frustrated them a bit.”

 

The man raises defiant eyes to his.  “I pissed them off, my lord.”  Malgus grunts his approval and the man continues in his same fervent tone.  “We are loyal soldiers for the Empire.  We did our best—“

 

Malgus cuts him off. “No one is faulting you, Oswald.  And no one would have expected you to hold off this size invasion force on your own.”  Malgus eschews the Sith culture of blame when it comes to defeat.  He understands that not all battles can be won.  “We’re going to need to debrief you for all you know.  Preparations are already underway to liberate Ziost.”

 

“Yes, my lord.   I will gladly assist.”

 

Looking at the man gritting his teeth through pain, Malgus decides on a change of plans.  He will drop off the rescued prisoners with Angral for medical attention and immediate debriefing.  Malgus turns to order to the lead trooper at his side, “Tell the pilot that we’re stopping at the _Oppressor_ before we head home.  Get the medics standing by for triage when we arrive.  They need to patch these guys up and pump them full of stim shots and painkillers so we can pick their brains.   They have a long day ahead of them still.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

The stoic looking Lieutenant Colonel speaks up, “Thank you, my lord, for the rescue.    We will do our part to reclaim Ziost.”

 

Malgus nods at this sentiment.  “We will get our revenge.  The Republic will pay dearly for its treachery.”

 

His eyes find Leena now.  She is sitting in the far back with eyes closed, leaning heavily against the wall.  She has her arms clasped around her as if she’s cold.  Malgus approaches and realizes she’s asleep.  Either that, or she’s unconscious and passed out from the pain.  “Leena.”   He sinks to a squat before her.  For the first time, he takes a good long look at her and sees the bruised lekku, eyes swollen shut, and her battered jaw.   The Republic had not pulled their punches.  It’s a good thing he arrived when he did.

 

“The worst is what you can’t see,” a trooper behind him who is acting as medic explains.  “She scans for multiple broken ribs and some slight internal bleeding.  A possible concussion too.  I gave her a sedative to let her rest until we land.  I figured we wouldn’t be debriefing her.”

 

“How serious is it?” Malgus asks.  He’s concerned.

 

“She’ll be good as new with a few days of treatment and some rest.  There’s nothing life threatening here.  Nothing permanent.  But it’s definitely uncomfortable.”

 

Yes, he knows.  Through the Force, Malgus can feel the waves of pain flowing off her and the other freed captives.   He stands now and unclasps his heavy cape to drape it over Leena.  Space flight is cold and she is already so miserable. 

 

She didn’t deserve this, he thinks as his eyes linger on her injuries.  Leena likely has never deserved any of the abuse she has endured through the years.  This poor woman has led such a wretched life.  It angers him on her behalf.   Malgus is very glad she fried that Jedi woman.  Leena has a lot of anger to get out. 

 

“From the looks of her, she didn't talk either,” the trooper observes. 

 

“She had nothing to tell.  She’s a civilian.  They beat her for nothing,” Malgus growls.   “This woman is not staying on the flagship,” Malgus orders, still gazing down at her.  “We’re taking her back to the _Absolute_ with us.”

 

“Yes, my lord.  I’m glad we found her, my lord.”

 

“Me too,” he responds with one last look before he gets back to work. 

 

Landing back at the _Oppressor_ will be his second battle of the day, Malgus knows.  But he is determined to bluster through this reckoning with the same confidence as the rescue mission to Ziost.  He’s a man of action and he took action today while others bickered.   That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.  And this is typical of his leadership style.  Malgus has never been one to ask permission.  He prefers to beg forgiveness for his fait accompli.  Well, not forgiveness exactly.  He’s more of the ‘here it is, deal with it’ sort of guy.  Whining isn’t very Sith, after all. 

 

Once they land, Malgus marches calmly out of the transport like a conquering Sith hero back from war.  He plants his feet and looks around with his usual quiet confidence.  As expected, there are plenty of onlookers waiting to watch what happens next.  Malgus knew he was provoking this sort of public scene when he sent ahead his surprise intel.  What he wasn’t expecting was that the audience would include the most senior military member of the Dark Council, Darth Azamin.  Evidently, old Azamin had stuck around past the high-level decision meeting early this morning.  Azamin is a man so aged and stooped over on his walking stick that he is only half Malgus’ height.  But you don’t judge a Sith by his size.  This gnarled old red geezer is a giant in the Force, a longtime member of the Dark Council, and a confidante of the Emperor himself. 

 

As Azamin slowly plods up, Darths Angral and Adraas move forwards to intercept him fast.  “What is the meaning of this?” Adraas begins his loud grandstanding.   “Malgus, your reckless insubordination threatens us all!”

 

Malgus ignores this outburst.  His eyes flit over to his superior Darth Angral.  Angral has never been one for public flogging.  He prefers to express his displeasure in private, as Malgus well knows.  But that doesn’t mean today he will step in to stop Adraas.   Glowering Angral pointedly declines to intervene. 

 

And so, Adraas continues to vent before the sizeable audience.  “This was completely unauthorized!  First, you vote against our plan of attack and cost us a unified leadership team!  Then you subvert our efforts by doing your own reconnaissance mission??” 

 

Malgus just smirks.  “You’re welcome.”

 

And now hotheaded Adraas is up in his face.  “You are a loose cannon!” he rails.

 

But Malgus refuses to be baited, especially by this man.  He now states his best case.  “While you and the rest jockey for position amongst yourselves, I decided to do something useful.  My mission was in support of our agreed strategy.  We need some reliable intel for our attack.”  As usual, he strives to sound as reasonable as possible.  Darth Malgus is a man who rarely raises his voice.  He seldom needs to do so.

 

Adraas’ eyes narrow.  “That chip on your shoulder is getting so large that we can all see it—" 

 

“I brought back more than just data,” Malgus interrupts.  With that, he signals to his troopers and the rescued prisoners begin to descend the transport ramp. 

 

“Who are they?” Adraas demands as the waiting medic droids and techs step forward to attend to their task.  “And what happened to them?”

 

“Those are civilian administrators and our highest-ranking military officers left alive on Ziost.  I liberated them from Republic custody and brought them back so they could help.  These are the men who know Ziost best.  They had a front row seat for the invasion and they can give you a sense of what we’re facing on the ground.  These are the best men to interpret the data I brought back.”

 

Adraas looks over the prisoners.  He gestures now to the badly beaten Lieutenant Colonel with the obviously broken arm.  “That guy doesn’t look in shape to help at all.”

 

Malgus shrugs.  “Some are worse than others.  That one probably needs a surgeon and a bacta bath.  Others are less injured.”  And now, it’s Malgus’ turn to get in his rival’s face.  “Don’t pretend that I didn’t just advance our intel for this operation one thousand percent.  I just dramatically increased our chance of success,” he hisses. 

 

“This was unauthorized!  It could have just as easily been a disaster as a success!” 

 

That comment gives Malgus his opening.  “Remember who you are talking to,” he rumbles.   “I don’t take foolish risks.  That’s why I went for intel.  Because attempting to reverse an invasion with zero reliable information to plan from is not how I make war.”  Darth Malgus himself is all righteous indignation now.  “I fight to win!” he brags.

 

It’s not an argument Adraas can easily counter, so he takes refuge in sarcasm for a response.  “I see you even brought us an alien.  Does she have intel too?” 

 

Malgus frowns and looks behind him to where wobbly Leena is making her way down the transport ramp with the help of a medic.  Malgus belatedly realizes that he should have given instructions to keep her onboard.  But it’s too late for that.  Malgus immediately starts to save face.  “It was a raid.  We took all of their prisoners and didn’t ask questions."

 

Adraas must see that he is defensive because he doubles down on this line of attack.  “How come whenever I see you, you’ve got an injured blue Twi’lek with you?”  His rival gives Leena a second look.  “Wait—is that the same one as before?”

 

Malgus decides to shut down this line of inquiry.  He turns to order the medics, “Focus on our men.  They are your priority.  That woman is a civilian and she can wait.  My men will see to her back on my ship.”

 

“Alien lover!” Adraas accuses with more truth than he knows.

 

But, as usual, Malgus plays it cool.  “Are you done?” he complains.  Adraas looks like he’s about to pull his sword as his answer.  “Is he done?” Malgus demands again, looking to his superior, the still silent Darth Angral.  Now that things have degenerated to name calling, this is getting downright puerile.

 

Angral is not the one to respond.  Old Darth Azamin is.  “The intel you brought back is very useful,” the aged Sith decrees.  And that ends the entire argument, for Azamin speaks for the Dark Council itself.  “You’re a bold one, Malgus.  But we all knew that.”  The ancient Sith’s toothless, gummy mouth forms a sly smile.  Though this Sith’s body is feeble, his mind is not.  “Adraas, your points are well taken but do not look a gift horse in the mouth.  It’s time to focus on the intel and consider how it changes our battle plans.”

 

Adraas backs down, but he’s still in a huff.  “It won’t change the fact that Malgus is superfluous to our mission.  The _Absolute_ will still be patrolling our outermost perimeter,” he sneers.  Because, of course, with Malgus AWOL during the past day of planning, his petty rival had taken full advantage to exclude him from frontline glory.   It’s typical Darth Adraas.

 

Well, Malgus is having none of that.  “You can put my ship in the background, but you won’t deny me a place at the battlefront,” he growls.  He has a score to settle with the Republic invaders who arrested and interrogated Leena.

 

Again, old Darth Azamin speaks up.  “My lords, let us fight the enemy and not ourselves.”

 

It’s a sentiment that Malgus himself has often voiced, so instantly he backs down.  “Yes, my lord,” he defers to the Council member.

 

“Yes, my lord,” Adraas makes his own perfunctory reply.  It’s petulant and begrudging. 

 

Wily old Azamin looks from one unrepentant Sith to the other and smirks.  Then he turns back to Malgus and commends, “I felt that shockwave, Lord Malgus.  Your power has matured nicely.  Well done, well done.”  Malgus nods and Azamin now dismisses Adraas.  “My lord, make haste to analyze the new intel.  The Council wants no delays in our planned response.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”   With one last glare his direction, Adraas stalks off. 

 

When his rival is out of earshot, Darth Azamin turns sharp eyes on Malgus.  Azamin gestures to the still silent Darth Angral to come closer.  “Lord Malgus, we want to hear more about your Core invasion idea.  Angral and I have discussed our current strategy.  We agree we need a Plan B.  Work together and present something to me privately.” 

 

“Yes, my lord.”  Malgus blinks at this unexpected request.  It turns out that he has made headway after all.  The three Council members had in fact been listening to his ideas this morning.  This is excellent news.

 

Perceptive old Azamin sees right through Malgus’ poker face.  That powerful if decrepit Sith knows he’s surprised and pleased, so Azamin grins.  Then he gestures with his walking stick in the direction of the retreating Adraas and speaks loudly to be overhead.  “Lord Malgus, Darth Adraas is just sorry he didn’t think of your stunt first.” 

 

“Yes, my lord.”  Malgus wholeheartedly agrees with that.  He doesn’t want anyone to know that the intel collection and prisoner rescue were accidental benefits of his completely personal rescue of Eleena Daru.

 

“Go see to your men,” Azamin orders as the ranking Sith, “But stay behind with us.  Malgus, never fear.   We will get you to the battlefront.  We will have need of a man with Dark power such as yours.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”


	20. Chapter 20

Lord Malgus had come back for her.  He had snuck behind enemy lines on an occupied world to rescue her.   It is a daring risk that means everything, Eleena thinks.  Or maybe nothing at all.  She isn’t sure.  For there are no private words of welcome or concern from him.  In fact, since the scene with the Jedi, she and Malgus have interacted very little.

In the semi-public space of the fleeing transport packed with troopers and prisoners, Lord Malgus’ demeanor was distant.  He had been focused first on their narrow escape.  And that reminded Eleena very much of Darth Malgus at his space station.  There the Sith had been all business, all of the time, and that business had been war.   Only in stolen private moments or during their training sessions alone had he relaxed his guard.   Otherwise, he had been the man in command.  Sardonic at times, but mostly aloof.   Sometimes violent.  Often cold. 

Eleena had nothing to contribute to the Ziost escape so she had huddled in the back, gasping and clutching at her side as the erratic movements of the fleeing ship jostled her first one direction and then the next. Are we going to make it?   She had wailed this to the Sith trooper attempting to assist her.  And did she sound hysterical?  She felt a little hysterical.  Everything was happening so fast and she hurt . . . oh, she hurt.  We’ll be fine, the man answered with a calm she knew was feigned.  But moments later, Lord Malgus did something in the Force and they were saved.  Relieved to see the undulating blue streaks of lightspeed outside the transport’s windows, Eleena gratefully accepted the offer of a pain pill.  You’ll be fine once we get you to the infirmary, the trooper wielding a medical scanner had informed her.  But take this and it will help you rest for the trip back. 

An hour later, that same trooper gently shakes her awake to announce their arrival at the Sith navy’s flagship.   Eleena pushes aside the blanket covering her and discovers it is Lord Malgus’ cape.   And that’s very him, she realizes.  He is a Dark Lord with a persistent streak of gallantry for those who serve him. But woe be to those who oppose him.  For whether it be her old master Barrabas, the Republic troopers who attacked his ship, or the Jedi woman who watched her interrogation, Darth Malgus is a merciless foe.   This is not a man you want for an enemy. 

When the transport docks inside a giant Sith dreadnought warship, Eleena is the last to disembark.  She stands on the periphery to watch what can only be described as a tense homecoming.  It’s as if Lord Malgus’ public persona she remembers from the space station ratchets up a notch.    His habitual blank poker face becomes less of a bored smirk and more of an outright sneer.  He’s a man long accustomed to command but now he marches down the shuttle ramp like he owns the place.   His unhurried stride radiates arrogance as does the way he swings his arms, plants his feet, and looks down his nose as he speaks with those waiting to confront him. 

Here among his peers, Lord Malgus does not acknowledge her either.  Only once does he seem to notice her and it’s when one of the triage medics approaches to assess her injuries.  That’s when Lord Malgus’ head swivels and he barks out sharply, “Focus on our men.  They are your priority.  That woman is a civilian and she can wait.  My men will see to her back on my ship.”

“Yes, my lord.”  The chastised medic automatically steps back and moves on, leaving Eleena holding a bacta patch that he surreptitiously stuffs in her hand.   Bewildered, she is feeling hurt in a totally different way now.   But that moment puts her in place.  Lord Malgus might save her from the enemy, but he will not be seen assisting a slave before his men and his peers.  And so, miserable Eleena waits off to the side with the strike team members as the other prisoners are taken away for treatment. 

It gives her a front row seat to watch Lord Malgus’ chilly reception.  A small core group steps forward to receive him while the rest of the Dark Lords look on.  Even out of easy earshot at this distance, it’s clear that the men are having words.  Eleena recognizes the man doing all the shouting—it’s Darth Adraas.  The man who had pulled a sword on Lord Malgus and had sent a spy into his home.  For his part, Lord Malgus looks alternatively nonplussed and smug.  And that appears to be irritating the aggressive Lord Adraas to no end.  This is how Eleena remembers the prior meeting she had witnessed between these two men.  Adraas had been looking for a fight that Lord Malgus had declined.   Eleena is starting to suspect that there is a long history between these two feuding Dark Lords.

And watching the standoff between the two men surrounded by stern faced onlookers, all Eleena can think is that collectively these Dark Lords are a very intimidating group.  For while the Sith Emperor might be the man plotting to rule the galaxy, these men will be the ones who will win it for him.   Lord Malgus is the only one in full armor, but everyone is sporting dramatic black.  Long black hooded robes, flowing black capes, shiny black armor, heavy black boots, thick black gloves, and even black masks for some.  Here and there, there is a flash of red or silver.  But all in all, it’s an awful lot of black.  Some like Lord Malgus have the pale blue-white skin that is the legacy of a lifetime spent in space away from natural sunlight.  Others have skin ranging from ruddy pink to scarlet red that bears testament to their Sith ancestry.  All have some form of lightsaber hanging at their hip or strapped across their back.

It’s hard to tell who likes Lord Malgus less—the Republic or his Sith Lord peers.  This is a team of rivals, Eleena suspects.   The body language alone reveals the undercurrents of competition.  There is some pecking order to it all, based on who engages with Lord Malgus and who just glares from off to the side.  A slight, stooped man whose face is hidden in shadows beneath his hood appears to be the one in charge.  After he speaks, the confrontation seems to end.   

At this, Malgus steps away from the group and beckons to his strike team.  “Come.  Bring her too,” he adds offhand as he starts marching towards a nearby shuttle that is warming up.  Wounded Eleena tries, but she can’t keep up with the pace.  She shuffles along clutching at her side that aches with each footfall.  She can’t seem to get enough air.  Every time Eleena takes a deep breath, her left side hurts more.  She ends up panting short and shallow breaths just to keep from getting dizzy.  The trooper who helped her on the transport remains at her side but the rest hurry to climb the shuttle ramp on the heels of Lord Malgus.    

“Almost there,” the trooper walking with Eleena encourages under his breath.  He must see how much she is struggling.   “We’ll get you patched up back on the _Absolute._   We have the latest in medical tech there anyhow.  Better than what they have here.”

“Okay.”  

“It’s a ten-minute flight at most.  It won’t be long before you get help,” the man keeps up his cheerleading. 

“Okay.”  This is so hard.  But Eleena keeps putting one foot in front of the other.

“Do you need to lean on me to get up the ramp?”

“No, I think I can do it.”  Eleena winces as now she begins to trudge up the shuttle ramp with shuffling steps.  Walking is hard.  Walking uphill is even harder. 

Eleena glances up to see that Lord Malgus is waiting at the top of the ramp, watching and looking concerned.  She drops her eyes reflexively from a habit of deference long ingrained.  It is a miracle that he saved her, so she will not appear to complain or to presume to expect anything further from him.  She is almost all the way up and out of eyesight of the hangar bay when Lord Malgus intercepts her.  Well, it’s more like he grabs for her and she sort of falls against him.  He throws his head over his shoulder to command to the nearby strike team members, “She’s on.  Prep for takeoff and go strap yourselves in.  This will just take a minute.  I’m staying behind.”

The troopers all file into the back except for the one with Eleena who heads to the cockpit to confer with the pilot.  Eleena and Lord Malgus are alone for the first time since that night at his space station.  And now, his demeanor abruptly shifts again.  The public Sith and the private Sith are two different men entirely, she is learning.

“Leena,” he gathers her gently into his arms as if she is the most fragile, most precious thing ever.  Her swollen face lays against the shoulder of his battle armor as she sags into him.  He speaks low into her ear as he begins issuing more orders.  “Leena, I want you safely on my ship.  It’s very close by so you won’t have to wait long for help.  Let the medics there take care of you.  Do what they say, even if they want to stick you in a bacta bath.  It won’t be pleasant but it’s the fastest way to heal.”

“Yes, my lord,” she says automatically.  Because when he holds her like this, there isn’t anything she won’t agree to.  For here, finally, is the tender reunion that she had been hoping for all along.

“Simus and Ragnos will be there to keep you company.  You will probably recognize the commanding officers from the station.  Ledbetter knows you are coming.  He will make certain no one bothers you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I am staying behind to fight, but my ship will be part of the outermost perimeter of the system blockade.  It’s possible that you will see some action, but only if this battle plan works and I think it will fail.  Leena, the _Absolute_ is the safest place I can put you right now.  There is no medical care on my station and I don’t trust you alone on Dromund Kaas.”

“Okay.”

“When you are recovered and things calm down, we will find you another job and another place to live and you can start again.  I promised you freedom and a new life.  I will give you that.  I promise I will give you that.”

“Thank you, my lord.”  He is gently stroking her sore lekku now as she nestles closer into him.  More than anything right now, Eleena feels like she needs a hug.  The past seventy-two hours have been exceedingly traumatic.  First the invasion, then her arrest and interrogation, then her harrowing rescue and that Jedi woman . . . Eleena isn’t sure how she feels about what happened with that Jedi woman.  Plus, she’s still so groggy from that sedative and numb from the pain of her injuries that she feels like she can’t think straight.

“I am sorry that you suffered on my behalf.   War is an ugly business.  On both sides.”  He makes no excuses for his actions.

“I killed that Jedi woman horribly,” Eleena whispers. 

He dismisses her guilt.  “She had it coming.  If you hadn’t killed her, I would have killed her.  She would have died either way.”

“I have never killed anyone before,” she confesses unhappily.  Honestly, Eleena isn’t quite sure whether she regrets killing that woman or not.  She’s guilty but she feels uncomfortably aware that she is guilty about not feeling more remorse.  Because shouldn’t she be broken up about committing gruesome murder?  Well, she’s not.  But she’s not exactly triumphant either.

“It will be easier next time,” Malgus soothes like some devil on her shoulder.  “You always remember the first kill.  Then the rest blur together.”  He reaches now to his waist and produces the Jedi woman’s lightsaber.  “Here,” he presses it into her hands like it’s a trophy of war.  “Your first kill was a Jedi.  Not many people can say that.”  He sounds proud.

Eleena pulls back now to turn the Jedi weapon over in her hands, staring down at it.  As she’s doing this, Malgus pulls something else out from his pocket.  It’s her headband.  “Oh,” she reacts, “I thought it was lost forever.”  She marvels at this unexpected good fortune, looking up at him with naked gratitude.  “You remembered to pick it up.”

Malgus reaches up to smooth the headband over her brow.  Carefully, he tucks it over her ears and fastens it in the back.  “Leena,” he flashes one of his rare smiles.  “My brave and loyal Leena.  I can’t think of you without imagining you wearing this.”  Then he bends to drop the softest ever kiss on her forehead.  It’s so fast and so faint that later she will wonder if she imagined it.  “I need to go.  My job is war.  Your job is to heal and to rest.” 

“Yes, my lord.  May the Force be with you.” She blesses him sincerely.  Eleena is starting to understand the Force better now.  And to respect its awesome power.   That shockwave move on the transport was barely believable. 

Malgus nods and starts to leave.

“Come back to me.”  The words slip out without thinking.   Has she overstepped?  Eleena flushes bright red and bites at her swollen lip.  “I mean . . . good luck,” she amends.

But Lord Malgus just flashes that unexpected smile again.  “Never fear.  It’s hard to kill a Sith.”

The stolen moment alone is over and Lord Malgus is all business again.  He tromps down the shuttle ramp with his battle armor clinking.  The ramp retracts and the ship immediately breaks gravity and heads for the airlock into space.  Eleena makes her way into the shuttle’s crew cabin and collapses painfully into an open seat to buckle in.

The flight to the _Absolute_ is ten minutes with sublight engines.  The strike team members talk amongst themselves, mostly about the mission.  Eleena is clearly the outsider.  Finally, one man who seems like the leader of the group turns to her. 

“So . . . you used to work for Lord Malgus?  He said you were an accountant for him before you went to work on Ziost.”

Is he fishing for information?  Probably.  A few of the men are looking at her with open curiosity now.  But Eleena has the suspicion that the other men who are studiously focused on other things are really listening in intently.   No doubt they are all wondering why a Sith Lord would rescue his former employee.  What’s so special about her?  Nothing, really.  Darth Malgus is the special one.  But these men don’t know their commander like she does. 

To be discrete, Eleena just confirms Lord Malgus’ statement.  “Yes.  I worked at his space station with the rest of the household.” 

“Yeah?  Our CO spent some time there when he was first hired.  He said it was something.”

“It is,” Eleena agrees softly.  “It’s really amazing.”

The man nods at the Jedi lightsaber in her hands. “You don’t see one of those every day.”

“I had never met a Jedi before this,” she admits.  She turns the distinctive weapon over in her hands, careful to avoid the ignition switch.  “The only lightsabers I have seen are red Sith ones.”

 “I’m sorry the enemy beat you up,” the lead man says sincerely, “just because . . . well, you know . . . Lord Malgus.”  The man looks like perhaps he has said too much, so he hastens to continue.  “Those Republic types are brutal zealots.  They will stop at nothing to get our Sith.  They hate him.” The others nod silently at this shared sentiment. 

“I know,” she replies softly.   Eleena inadvertently deepens her mystery now.   “I was there when they tried to poison him and when they attacked his old ship.”   She reaches up to finger her left lekku where it aches badly.  “Thank you for saving me.”  She looks around at the whole group as she says this. “Thank you for risking your lives for me.”

The leader nods.  “It was our pleasure, ma’am.  Plus, when a Dark Lord asks for a favor, you don’t say no.”  The trooper eyes the fancy headband she’s wearing now.  It’s hard to miss.  “That’s very pretty.  It makes you look close to human,” he compliments her.  “Our Sith is supposed to like aliens.  Does he have a lot of non-humans who work for him?”

“No.”  Eleena reaches up self-consciously to smooth the headband.  “Just me.”

“Huh,” the man remarks.  He acts surprised at this information.  And now, Eleena wonders if she has mistaken curiosity about herself for curiosity about Lord Malgus.   But maybe, it’s both.  “Ron here says you’re a good shot.  He says you drilled that Jedi bitch twice before she hit the ground.”

Eleena doesn’t want to be reminded of that moment.  She looks down and colors.  “It wasn’t my best moment,” she grumbles awkwardly.

“Oh, don’t be modest,” the man chides with a chuckle.  “Not every accountant can claim to have killed a Jedi.”  

“If you had been there for the invasion you would have wanted to kill her too,” Eleena says stiffly.   She’s defensive about what happened. 

And now, the nosy trooper is defensive as well. “Please don’t misunderstand, Ms. Daru.  We thoroughly approve.  I’d like to kill a Jedi myself someday.”

“I hate the Republic,” she responds with complete sincerity.  “I hate them for their lies . . .”  For the lies about freedom and opportunity that never extended to her.  For the deceit that made her an unwitting, completely expendable pawn in Barrabas’ cowardly plot.  “I hate them for Ziost . . . ”    For the sheer gall of invading a world where both sides had coexisted peacefully more or less until the Republic showed up.  They called it liberation but it sure felt like occupation to her.  And it cost Eleena her chance at freedom and a normal life.  All of her resentment is focused on the Jedi and the Republic now as she adopts the Sith arch-enemy for her own.  “I hate them,” she hisses vehemently.

“We do too, ma’am,” a voice from the next row speaks up to a chorus of concurring nods.  “We do too.”

Outside the shuttle window, Lord Malgus’s great ship the _Absolute_ looms close.  “Looks like we’re here,” the lead trooper states the obvious.  Then he turns back to her.  “Don’t worry. The medics will fix your face up.”   The man says this with so much sympathy that for the first time Eleena becomes truly alarmed about her injuries.  “You’ll be good as new.”

She raises a tentative hand to her aching face.   She hasn’t seen a mirror yet.  “Oh.  I guess it’s pretty bad . . .”

“Don’t worry.  You’ll be beautiful again just like Darth Malgus described.”

That conversation is the first inkling Eleena has that everyone onboard the _Absolute_ will be very curious and watchful about her.  The crew is all new to Lord Maglus’ command and aside from the most senior officers who spent time at the station and with whom he interacts the most, everyone knows their new leader by reputation alone.  That reputation is cold and fearsome.  Malgus is a man begrudgingly admired and not liked.  But he is universally judged to be fair and that makes him an outlier among the Sith.  Officers and crew who have witnessed the violent capriciousness of the Dark Side with other commanders had rushed to sign up for the _Absolute_. 

And whereas Darth Malgus might explain away his Ziost mission by producing gobs of intel and a dozen rescued men with firsthand knowledge of the Republic invasion force, his strike team from the _Absolute_ knows the truth.  They know that the whole reason for the mission was to rescue her and the rest was a happy accident.  Lord Malgus might disdain Eleena in public before his peers but she merits his personal attention nonetheless.  That becomes indisputable when the shuttle arrives and Captain Ledbetter himself is waiting to greet her.  The strike team assembles at attention for their superior while Eleena plods painfully down the ramp, clutching the dead Jedi’s lightsaber in her hand. 

“Ms. Daru,” Malgus’ second-in-command knows her.  “Welcome aboard.  I am happy to know that you are rescued.”

“Captain,” she wheezes out as the whole strike team strains to eavesdrop.  “Nice to see you again.”

Captain Ledbetter motions to the medic crew who wait at the ready to assist her.  But two giant grey wolfhounds racing across the hangar bay at top speed beat them to it.  Everyone is alarmed at the sight of the charging, excited dogs.  Someone even pulls a blaster and sets to stun.  For the surly, snappish hounds of Lord Malgus are not popular.  Like their master, they are more feared than liked.  Except by Eleena, who awkwardly drops to her knees and joyfully surrenders to their licks and wagging tails. 

“Easy, Simmy,” she chides the smaller one.  “Wait your turn.”  But Simus is determined to nose his way in for a pet.  “I’m hurt, don’t bump me, please.”  Rags now is attempting to crawl into her lap.  He satisfies himself with rolling over on his back.  It’s the classic posture of subservience that these dogs show to no one but the master.  From the looks on their faces, the crew has ever seen anyone else interact with Malgus’ dogs this way.   “Oh, I missed you, boys,” Eleena gushes.  Suddenly, she feels as if she might cry.  Since the shock of the Ziost invasion, she has been holding back a tide of emotion, trying as always to be stoically strong.  “I don’t have any treats now.  But I’ll get some once I get healed up a bit.  Is anyone looking after you here?”

Yes, someone is.  A terrified looking flunkey runs up after the dogs now.  He sees Captain Ledbetter and then pauses for a quick salute.  And now he is dragging the dogs off Eleena.  “I’m so sorry, ma’am.  They are so unruly.  They only obey Malgus himself,” the makeshift dog handler apologizes.   “They are such terrible beasts,” he moans aloud.  Clearly, this is not a man who enjoys his job. 

Eleena laughs a little even though it hurts.  “Simmy!  Rags!” she commands.  “Sit!”  And they do. 

The newcomer stares at bruised and battered Eleena looking dumbfounded.  Then he asks the question everyone wants to know, “Er . . . who are you?”

“I’m Eleena Daru.  I’m an accountant.  I used to work for Lord Malgus.  That’s how I know the dogs.”

“Oh,” the man replies as he steps aside for the medics to approach.  “Right.  Er . . . what happened to you?”

“Ms. Daru was rescued today from Republic interrogation on Ziost,” Captain Ledbetter says in quelling tones.  “That will be all, Cadet.  Remove the hounds, if you please.”  The Captain motions impatiently to the medics again.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary,” she is told.  But Eleena now discovers she cannot stand.  Her ribs hurt too much to get up from the floor. 

“Oh, dear, this isn’t good.”  And now Eleena is certain that she will succumb to tears.  It takes a trooper under each arm to lift her onto her feet.  They remain in that posture to help Eleena to the infirmary.  Luckily, on a warship the medical center is on the same level as the hangar bay so that incoming casualties can be ferried to immediate medical attention.  There Eleena finally gets the help she needs.  We’re just going to do an exam to assess your injuries, she is told when she arrives.  The medics offer her a sedative and pain reliever to make it easier.  “Yes, please,” weary Eleena responds.  And seconds after they administer the shot, Eleena drifts off into blissful, pain free sleep.     


	21. Chapter 21

When Eleena emerges from sedation after her medical treatment, she comes awake slowly.  At first, she is only aware of sensations like touch and cold and wet.  And sticky.  She feels very sticky.  After a time, she registers voices.  They are talking about her.

 

_Unconscious or sedated?_

_Sedated.  We just pulled her from the tank._

 

_Yeah, I saw her in there earlier.   Did you see the chest on her?_

_We all did.  That was something to see._

_So . . . who is she?  She’s alien, so she’s not one of ours._

 

_She’s some civilian accountant who used to work for Malgus.  He rescued her along with a bunch of our men in custody on Ziost._

_That must have been some rescue.  Did you see this?  Her records show she was pretty messed up.  Four broken ribs.  Internal bleeding.  Concussion.  Contusions everywhere.  Two black eyes._

 

_The guys who brought her in said some of our men were worse.  They were all in Republic interrogation getting beaten because they refused to talk._

_Why interrogate a civilian accountant?_

_I don’t know.  You tell me.  Maybe because she is Lord Malgus’ accountant?_

_Oh. I guess that makes sense.  Sort of . . ._

_Did you hear?  They got a Jedi on that mission._

_I’m not surprised.  Malgus always gets his man._

_It was a woman.   A lady Jedi._

_Yeah?_

_And the story is that this here accountant was the one to kill her._

_Really?  Wow.  I wouldn’t have guessed._

_Yep.  And Ledbetter himself met her at the shuttle when she arrived back with the strike team._

_The Captain was there?  No shit?_

_No shit.  And he doesn’t come down from the bridge for just anyone._

_This woman is not really an accountant, is she?_

 

_No, I don’t think so._

_Maybe she’s a mercenary. Malgus hires mercenaries.  And that would explain why the Republic would be interested in her._

_I don’t think she’s a mercenary either._

 

_Yeah?  You don’t suppose she’s his . . ._

 

_His what?_

 

_You know . . .   Maybe Lord Malgus likes ‘em blue and thick with great tits._

 

_Nah, I don’t think so.  Malgus is supposed to be a cold sonofabitch.  Plus, he’s not a Hutt.  Even Malgus wouldn’t keep a Twi’lek slave.  Dark Lords are far too proud for that sort of thing._

 

_She’s a slave?_

 

_She wore a slave collar implant once.  I saw the scar on her neck when we cleaned the bacta off her.  The scar is fresh.  This woman was a slave very recently._

 

_Huh.  Well, whoever she is, she’s lucky to be alive and off Ziost.  We’re getting transfers of battlefield trauma cases starting tomorrow.  I’ve already given orders to refresh and ready all our bacta tanks.  This is the first wave of a lot of these sorts of cases we are going to get._

 

_When do the transfers come in?_

_Tomorrow from fifteen hundred onward.  It will give us something to do.  Stationed this far out on the blockade, we’re not going to see anything but medivac transfers._

_Yeah, okay.  So . . . do you think all those stories about Twi’leks are true?_

_What stories?_

_You know—how if you stroke their tentacles just the right way they will—_

_You’ve watched too much holonet porn._

_Hey, I’m a single guy.  And there are seven women on this ship and Ledbetter has forbidden us to even look at them._

_There’s eight women now._

_She’s an alien.  She doesn’t count._

_Did you see what I saw in that bacta tank?  Trust me, this blue gal counts._

 

Four days later, Eleena is released out of sickbay.   She is assigned to her own private quarters on a lower deck alongside the non-commissioned officers.  There she spends the day surfing the holonet and doing her rehabilitation exercises.  It’s a lot of ab exercises to help her healing ribs.  With nothing else to do, Eleena does the exercises over and over again.  At this rate, she’s going to get a six-pack after all.  Everyone else on the ship has a job to do and a place to be but her.  Eleena has nothing to do but hang out and play fetch with Lord Malgus’ dogs. 

 

She knows no one on the _Absolute_.  Eleena is not used to so much time alone.  There were always people around at the Barrabas Logistics warehouses and plenty of work to do.  And though Eleena was known to be a slave, she had daily responsibilities and, in certain situations, a degree of professional respect.  Later at Lord Malgus’ space station, the busy household staff always had friendly smiles and  kind words.   But here on the _Absolute_ , Eleena is surrounded by people who are not exactly hostile, but they keep their distance.  She is gawked at and whispered about in the hallways.  Everyone, it seems, is suspicious of her.

 

Maybe it’s because of the rumors she overheard in the sickbay.  Maybe people are scared of her because she killed a Jedi.  Or maybe they are intimidated because they think that she once worked on the mysterious new commander’s personal staff.  Or maybe it’s just the Sith’s famous prejudice for non-humans coming out.  But Eleena tends to think that the issue is mostly because of her slave background. The Sith are a hierarchical society and the military itself is organized along a chain of command.  As a civilian and a former slave, Eleena is separate and apart from all of that.  It makes her self-conscious in a way she hasn’t been before.  As the days pass, Eleena worries that what she initially took for curiosity from afar is really a form of contempt.   The only reason no one is completely upfront about their disdain, Eleena reasons, is likely the confusing messages sent by Captain Ledbetter and her bunk assignment equivalent to an NCO. 

 

All this solitude gives Eleena time to think.  Mostly, she thinks about Lord Malgus.  She forgot to thank him.  That slight weighs heavily on her mind.  In their stolen moments alone at the top of the shuttle ramp, Eleena had been so confused by his hot-and-cold demeanor and hurt from her injuries that she had completely forgotten to express her gratitude.  She feels terrible about that.

 

She also feels confused about what it means to be rescued by the Sith.  For while Lord Malgus had promised her a second chance at freedom, that seems like a consolation prize.  For standing there in his arms on the shuttle, all Eleena had wanted was him.  Darth Malgus might be a warrior feared by his enemies and begrudgingly admired by his peers, but he is the only man who has never hurt her.  And, yes, he is famous for his cold strategic mind and his intolerance for failure.   And yet, he has only shown Eleena kindness and patience.   They spent one glorious night of passion together and then went their separate ways.  But still . . . Lord Malgus had come back to Zoist for her.  Somehow, Eleena had known that her loyalty during her interrogation had not been misplaced.  And true to form, Lord Malgus had come through big time.  

 

But what does it mean?  Probably nothing.  Sith Lords do not have relationships with slave women. And despite their night together, Lord Malgus has never promised her anything but freedom and help for a fresh start.  He thinks women are a distraction to fighting men and by now he might be a newlywed to aristocratic Lady Cassis.  There is no room in Lord Malgus’ life for Eleena Daru.  She doesn’t fit into his world and she will bring him nothing but further conflict and disdain.  And that seems like a terrible way to repay all his kindness.  

 

But still . . . the dreamer in Eleena imagines that the door will slide open one day to reveal the Sith Lord himself.  Then he will take her in his arms for a kiss.  But the realist in her understands that there is a reason why some junior lieutenant comes by every third day to knock to confirm that she is okay.  Each time, the man asks her the same two perfunctory questions as he stands in the doorway looking annoyed with his task.  Are you ill?  Do you require any assistance?  Eleena answers in the negative each time.  Then the days drag on until the lieutenant appears again.  She is being looked after at a minimum and at a distance.   The clean break between her and Lord Malgus continues the same as before notwithstanding Ziost. 

 

Eleena gets the message and exists very quietly on the _Absolute_ , taking care to create minimal fuss.  Things brighten a little when Jose Escriva begins sending her regular messages to check in.  Jose sends her well wishes from everyone back at the space station.  But she never hears from Lord Malgus.  She didn’t really expect to.

 

Eleena doesn’t go looking for attention, after a few days she finds she gets it anyway.  She is sitting one evening eating alone in the giant commissary.  The regular one—not the officers’ mess.   Up walk three men to sit down uninvited in the empty seats that surround her.  They are not threatening exactly, but they are not friendly either.  Eleena is instantly uncomfortable.

 

“Hey, what’s your name?  We keep seeing you around.  We thought we would introduce ourselves,” says the boldest of the bunch.  “You’re on C Deck same as us NCO’s.”  Then he says three names that Eleena promptly forgets.

 

“I’m Eleena Daru.”

 

“You’re out of uniform, Ms. Daru,” the bold one says with a smile.  He’s fishing but not exactly rude.  They both know that there are no female aliens in the Sith military.

 

“I am a civilian.  I’m only here temporarily,” she explains quietly.

 

“Yeah, we heard.  You’re the accountant woman who Malgus brought back from Ziost, right?”  The man lets on that he’s heard plenty about her.

 

Eleena just nods.  “That’s right.”

 

“Your Basic has an accent,” another man observes.  And this is something new to Eleena.  Back in the Republic Mid Rim, she sounded like everyone else.  It was only once she lived among the Sith that Eleena realized that she speaks with a bit of an accent to their ears. 

 

When she doesn’t respond, the man says plainly.  “You sound Republic.” 

 

The third man who turns out to be the most obnoxious of the group now speaks up.  “Yeah, it’s kinda sexy.  Say something else, baby.” 

 

“I’m not Republic,” Eleena says in a clipped, annoyed tone.  “I am full citizen of the Empire,” she bristles defensively. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, we know you went through Republic interrogation,” the first guy reveals more of his knowledge.  “Look, we don’t want to bother you.  We just want to know what Malgus is like.   We heard you used to work for our Sith Lord.” 

 

The second man chimes in, “We’ve never even seen Malgus up close.”

 

The obnoxious one laughs.  “That’s fine by me.  Even from a distance, he looks like one scary motherfucker.”  The man turns to Eleena.  “While these guys are all looking for him, I’m looking for the girls.  Until you came along, there were seven women on the _Absolute_.  All of them officers.  None of them pretty unless you like your women over fifty and by-the-book.”

 

The first one ignores this.  “So what’s he like?  Come on, you can tell us.  There are no commissioned officers here to tattle.  Tell us what you think, Ms. Daru.”

 

And how does she answer?  Eleena thinks a moment before deciding honestly, “He’s nice.”

 

“Nice??” the obnoxious guy parrots.  “Come on, tell us the truth.  Darth Malgus the New isn’t nice.  The man is a beast.  Tough as nails.  Merciless to the core.  He killed his own Sith Master at Korriban.  That’s not nice.”

 

“He’s only ever been nice to me.”  The trio look so disappointed now that Eleena feels compelled to add, “I did see him execute a spy once at the space station.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Eleena nods.  “He took the man’s head off with his sword.  It was at dinner,” she recalls aloud.  “No one was hungry after that.”

 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” the obnoxious guy crows.  “Our Sith Lord is a killer.  They say that in the Republic everyone knows his name.  It’s only here in the Empire that he gets short changed on glory.  You know . . . because he’s not pureblood.”

 

“What else besides nice?” the first guy cross-examines Eleena.  “Because that doesn’t really sound right . . .  “

 

“He’s loyal,” Eleena adds.

 

“Yeah, that fits,” the first guy decides.  “But what’s with the dogs?  Never heard of a Sith Lord who kept pets.”

 

“Yeah?” his obnoxious friend chimes in.  “Well, they are Dark Side dogs.  Scary, aggressive, violent, biting dogs.  Just like Malgus himself.”

 

The dogs don’t bite, Eleena thinks.  At least, they have never bitten her.  Neither has Malgus, for that matter.

 

“And the garden on A-deck beneath the bridge?”  It’s the first guy again.  “That’s odd too.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think our Sith Lord was a bit prissy.  You know . . . maybe he’s soft just like they say.”

 

Eleena and everyone else blinks at that.  But the obnoxious guy is the one to respond, of course.  “Malgus prissy?   Have you lost your mind?”

 

“You’ll lose your head if that comment gets overheard,” the quiet second man agrees.

 

Eleena feels compelled to explain a bit, so she reveals, “His villa on Dromund Kaas has gardens too and so does his space station.  Lord Malgus likes natural beauty.  And plants have the Force.”

 

“They do?” All three men ask.

 

“Yes.  Life creates the Force and makes it grow.  Even plants.”

 

“Lady, you sound like a Jedi,” the first guy says derisively.

 

And the mostly quiet second man comes to her defense.  “Hey—don’t be rude to her—”

 

“I’m an accountant,” Eleena informs them pointedly.  “I don’t have the Force. I’m just an ordinary person who got caught up in a war.”

 

The first guy—the bold one—nods at this.  Then he counters, “So how come you got rescued?”

 

“I was in the right place at the right time when Lord Malgus arrived to rescue the others,” Eleena outright lies.

 

“So what were you doing in Republic custody in the first place?” the bold one follows up.

 

“I got caught out after curfew.”

 

“And you get interrogated for that?”

 

Eleena doesn’t really want to talk about her interrogation.  She must look a bit stricken because now the obnoxious guy again inserts himself.  “Sure, you do.  Those Republic assholes will stoop to anything.  You know that.  They will ruin the galaxy if they win.  There will be democracy and disorder everywhere you look.” 

 

“I’m asking her, not you—”

 

And now Eleena speaks for herself.   “Look, I got picked up after curfew and they thought I had information for them.  I escaped thanks to Lord Malgus.  You know,” she defends the ship’s resident Dark Lord, “you could do a lot worse than him.  He’s fair and he’s loyal and he usually wins.  There’s a reason men flocked to join his new command.”

 

Her tone is a rebuke and now all three men look chastised.  The first even manages a quasi-apology.  “Yeah, okay.  Look, we’re glad you’re back home on the good side, Ms. Daru.  We’re glad you’re safe.  We were just curious about the new commander, that’s all.  He’s . . . uh . . . got quite a reputation, you know.”

 

Eleena relaxes and now they do too.  And that must embolden the men to get to the question they have been dying to ask.  “Is it true you killed a Jedi?”

 

Eleena nods.  “Yes.”  But she refuses to talk about it.

 

After two more similar conversations, Eleena realizes that she is provoking more questions than she is answering.  She’s only making herself more conspicuous and she’s not succeeding at making friends.  It’s not that the crew are hostile or disrespectful.  But they are curious and rather persistent.  Eleena quickly tires of telling her story again and again.   And so, she starts arriving to eat at odd times long after shift changes when there are not many people around.  The rest of the day, she hangs out in her room or with the dogs everyone keeps their distance from. 

 

It’s best this way for her.  There are people who go through life seeking the limelight.  They like to be on display.  It feeds a need deep within them to feel important or desired or special in some way.  They blossom under all the attention and become their best, most vibrant self.  See them laughing at a party or commanding all the eyes in the room at the meeting.  These people are best before a crowd.  Because when attention is withheld, they are diminished and self-conscious and feeling pushed aside. 

 

And then, there are those people who would much prefer to blend in and not draw attention to themselves.  Maybe that’s because the attention they have garnered in the past has been negative or threatening.  Or perhaps they want to be understood for something other than what is visually on display.  Or sometimes it is a consequence of the fact that what people perceive about them is not who they truly are. Because the assumptions and judgements people project on them are false. These people are uncomfortable with being front and center.  They fidget and look away.  Eleena Daru is one of them. 

 

She’s a slave so it is her job to fade into the background.  The problem is that Eleena has nowhere to hide on the _Absolute_.  And, strangely enough, she has some nebulous status as well.  No one is sure who she is or why she is here, but they know she merits a reception from the captain and she is rumored to have killed a Jedi.  So, Eleena keeps to herself but strives to keep her head held high and her chin up in public.   She thinks Lord Malgus would approve.

 

The days slip by slowly.  One week becomes two weeks becomes three, as Eleena waits for what happens next.  Her future is very uncertain.  After what happened on Ziost, she cannot go back to a Republic world to begin a new life, even if she wanted to.  She is now a wanted fugitive and suspected Sith agent.  Even if her sympathies were not already with the Empire, she would support the Sith by default.  But with the war at a turning point and the Republic in possession of a key Sith world, it’s unclear which Imperial worlds are safe.  So, for the meantime, Jose tells her to sit tight on the _Absolute_.  The Master does not want to settle you on another world that ultimately will prove to be unsafe, he writes.  Let’s see how things unfold since it is early days in the counterattack still.

 

That’s fine, but Eleena wants to get a message back to her supervisor and her colleagues at the accounting firm back on Ziost.  That’s not possible with the communications blackout, she is told by the junior lieutenant who comes around to check on her.  But they’ll I think I’m dead, Eleena protests.   It’s probably the other way around, she is told.  And then, the lieutenant gives Eleena a peek at some newly received classified surveillance photographs from Ziost.  She swipes through picture after picture showing New Adasta reduced to rubble.  Just the first three weeks of the Sith counterattack have made the once cosmopolitan city an eerie ghost town of ruins. 

 

Eleena swallows hard at what she sees.  These aren’t random pictures of others’ misfortunes on the holonet.  These are places she has been, and the dead and the missing probably include people she knows.   Seeing the destruction brings tears to her eyes.  The seige of Ziost is personal in a way Eleena cannot ignore.

 

“I hate the Republic,” she says bleakly when she can’t stop swiping through the carnage.  If it’s strange that Eleena has adopted the cause of a culture that does not fully accept her, she doesn’t care.  It’s not like life in the Republic is all that great by comparison.   There is unfairness and injustice and prejudice amid all peoples.  At least the Sith are overt about it.  “I hate the Republic,” Eleena repeats as she pauses on a picture of a pile of debris that used to be a school.

 

“We all do, Ma’am,” the lieutenant solemnly agrees. 

 

Eleena knows that somewhere there is similar footage of death and destruction on a smaller scale at her old master Barrabas’ villa and warehouses.  Innocents died there too, only at the hands of the Empire.   But at least that attack had some provocation and justification.  Eleena sees no explanation for Ziost. There the Republic was the aggressor first. 

 

Like most everyone who watches the newsfeeds, Eleena only knows the general gist of the issues at stake in the war.  The conflict between the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic dates back hundreds of years.  You’d have to be a history professor to truly understand the twists and turns of the never-ending war.  But Eleena strongly suspects that there are heroes and villains on both sides.  Plus, this former slave is cynical about concepts of good and evil, right and wrong.  Very little in life is sacrosanct and things depend very much on your point of view.  And now, through an unexpected set of circumstances, her point of view is firmly Sith.  Because sometimes you just have to pick a side and take the good with the bad.

 

“I hope Lord Malgus kills them all,” Eleena says with a hardened heart as she hands the lieutenant back his datapad.  “The Republic should pay for this.”  Especially those smug Jedi knights, she thinks.


	22. Chapter 22

The Sith push to dislodge the Republic forces from Ziost is not going well.  Everything is proceeding as Darth Malgus has foreseen, unfortunately.  But as tempting as it is, Malgus has resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so’ out loud.   He doesn’t have to.  His rival Darth Adraas has complained far and wide about Malgus’ opposition to the Ziost strategy.  And so everyone knows that Darth Malgus is just going along. 

 

Sure enough, once the element of surprise is exhausted, the Ziost counteroffensive stalls.  The Imperial forces now have a significant presence established on-world, but the Republic also has dug in.  There are almost daily space battle skirmishes in orbit as both sides struggle to bring in additional men and supplies.   And on the ground, the fighting is house to house, street to street.  It results in maximum loss of life among civilians, the Sith infantry, and the enemy alike. 

 

Smug though he is, Malgus finds it disheartening and wasteful.  He is both happy and unhappy to be proven right. 

 

Lord Malgus himself has spent three weeks straight on the frontlines doing what he can to improve things on the ground.   His efforts have had mixed results.  But they have given his troops from the _Absolute_ more combat experience to adjust to working under his command.   It’s also given Malgus time to observe his officers in action.  As a result, Malgus has already replaced one aide-de-camp and promoted some very capable infantry officers up the ranks.   Meanwhile, his command ship has remained safely away from the fray.  The _Absolute_ is stuck in the outermost blockade perimeter.   Since the Republic ships tend to originate and terminate their lightspeed jumps very close to Ziost’s orbit, the enemy pretty much bypasses his ship.

 

Today, Darth Angral had abruptly ordered Malgus back to the _Absolute_.  His infantrymen remaining on-world are temporarily reassigned to another Sith Lord’s command.  His sometime mentor, sometime critic Admiral Angral had taken Malgus aside to say bluntly that right now his highest and best use is his brain and not his sword.  Go plot old Darth Azamin his Coruscant strategy, Angral had ordered.  Remain on your command ship until you have something really good.  And don’t bother me until then.

 

And that’s why Darth Malgus finds himself and his most senior aides returning unannounced to the _Absolute_ one night.  Truth be told, he’s not upset to be ordered back from Ziost.  Malgus would much rather be working on his Core invasion strategy.  But after Adraas was so vehement badmouthing him publicly, Malgus had needed to spend conspicuous time at the battlefront.  He had to show that he can be a team player when needed.  But enough of that, it’s time to get back to what matters most: winning the war.  And, as he has stated all along, that won’t be done on Ziost. 

 

Returning to the _Absolute_ doesn’t just mean plotting for Coruscant.  It means returning to Eleena Daru.   Malgus has been thinking about her rather a lot lately.  But always from afar.  For the first few days, he monitored her physical recovery, skimming over the medical reports dutifully forwarded to him by Captain Ledbetter.  Poor Leena.  The Republic interrogator had really beaten her up.  Malgus himself once had cracked ribs when he had nearly been crushed to death on Alderaan.  He remembers vividly how much that hurt.  No wonder Leena had looked so bad standing alone on the _Oppressor_.  She had stuck out like a sore thumb as the only woman and the only alien among the group.   So, of course, Darth Adraas’ eyes had been drawn to her.   That was very unfortunate.

 

Once she was released from the medibay, Malgus delegated Leena entirely to Captain Ledbetter.   He has been too busy in combat to do anything else.   Plus, Leena is resilient, he told himself.  She’ll be fine.  For all he knows, Leena has been through far worse than Republic interrogation in her past.   Still, she stays on his mind.  Just like she had for weeks prior to her rescue from Ziost. 

 

Since that passionate night together on his space station, Malgus has been falling asleep to fantasies of Eleena Daru and waking up hard with her name on his lips.  These are hot fever dreams of her lekku brushing against his thighs as she kneels to take him in her mouth.  Of her bending face forward over his desk as he takes a break from his work to thrust into her from behind.  Of them tumbling on the soft grass of his arboretum as he makes languid love to her surrounded by his plants, his dogs, and the pulsating, living Force.  These days, his favorite respite from war is thinking of all the ways he would kiss and lick and suck and fuck Eleena Daru.  Their single night together did not sate Malgus’ longing for his Twi’lek ward, instead it has sparked it stronger still. 

 

Watching Leena kill the Jedi on Ziost had only deepened his interest.  For this woman is fierce.  She had put two shots into her Jedi tormentor before the woman had even hit the ground.  Then, Leena had proceeded to empty the rest of the blaster cartridge into her.  Watching Leena fry that Jedi had been strangely affecting for him.  Malgus had felt secondhand her wrath and, Sith Master that he is, he was impressed with its depth.   Her determined violence had been downright hot.  But its undercurrent of desperation is what had him hooked.  It’s this combination of vulnerability and rage that has Darth Malgus utterly beguiled.  The Leena he knows is so soft in body and in heart.  Yet so hardened and hurt in her core.   It makes Malgus want to protect her as much as he wants to enable her anger.  To hug her and then put a loaded weapon in her hand.   He wants to be the safe space for her fragile, beaten down psyche and to provide an outlet for her pain.  If life were different, he would make her his lady and he would be her Sith.

 

And that’s why, though he and his strike team had needed to get out of there fast, Malgus didn’t put an end to Leena’s overkill.  Quite the contrary, he had stood there transfixed.   Gods, this woman is magnificent, was all that Malgus could think.   She’s beautiful and angry, she’ll kill a Jedi and she’ll sleep with him.  Yes, regardless of her lowly background, Eleena Daru is everything Darth Malgus could ever want.   Except the Force.   She doesn’t have the Force.  But he can live with that. 

 

How is Leena doing now?   Malgus wonders this as his shuttle touches down at the _Absolute_ and he senses her in the Force.  After searching hard for Leena in the Force on Ziost, it’s almost like he is hyperaware of her as he lands on his ship. 

 

Malgus knows where he will find her this time of night.  When his shuttle lands, he heads for the ship’s garden and not for the bridge.  If his entourage of aides-de-camp and senior officers find this unusual, no one speaks up.  His men trail in his wake as they hurry to keep pace.  As they walk briskly, Malgus finishes going over the remainder of his orders.  “That’s enough for today,” he decides as he stops on the threshold of the garden sanctuary.  Yes . . . she is here.  He senses her closeness in the Force.  And now, Malgus is anxious to be alone.  “Meet me on the bridge at 0600 and we will start the day,” he instructs.  And now comes the punchline:  “Gentlemen, you are dismissed.”

 

Only when all six of his men have marched away does Darth Malgus step into the garden.  He treads softly, not intending to sneak up on Leena but more hoping to prolong this moment.  For there is something lovely and serene about this scene that balms his war-ravaged soul.  Leena sits on the grassy lawn, her feet tucked to the side as she props herself on her hands looking up.  Her graceful lekku drape behind her on the grass.  As expected, she has his dogs relaxing at her side.  The hounds are quiet and still, and just hanging out.  He watches as Leena absently reaches to scratch a dog’s head.  She looks happily bored.  Yes . . . just being here chills Malgus out too.  He is intense by his nature but three weeks at the frontlines of this bitter war fighting a losing strategy have Darth Malgus stressed out.   Until now, he hadn’t realized how much. 

 

Ragnos and Simus are the ones to discover him first as they catch his scent.  The hounds perk up, look to find him, and then happily charge at full speed.  Leena instantly sits up and looks over her shoulder. 

 

Their eyes lock. 

 

She smiles tentatively.  She looks very relieved. 

 

He smiles back.

 

Malgus now stoops to greet the dogs.  They are very excited to have their master back home.  Almost excited as their master is to be home.  As the Sith gives the requisite scratches and pets, Leena silently climbs to her feet.  She’s wearing that same blue woolen dress he had rescued her in, Malgus sees.  And evidently, the bloodstains from her split lip did not wash out.  She is looking nervous now.  He watches as she reaches to brush back one of her lekku.   And is she going to approach him?  No, she is not.  Leena’s head is down now, her hands laced in front of her.  It is a posture of subservience long ingrained.   She is awaiting the Master’s notice and not calling attention to herself. 

 

Malgus is struck by the contrast between Leena now and on Ziost.  No one would guess that this is the same woman who sneered at a Jedi and then shot her to death.   This woman looks quiet and cowed, more likely to cry than to kill.  But beneath her veneer of servility lurks an impressive fury, he knows.  There is a fierce courage and a bold conviction in Eleena Daru just waiting to be coaxed out.  But not tonight, Malgus thinks to himself.  Tonight, he wants her soft.  Just not so meek.  He doesn’t like her meek.

 

As he walks forward now to greet her, Leena’s eyes peek up but her head stays down.  Is she afraid of him?  She shouldn’t be.

 

“My l-lord.”  She talks first, stuttering a little nervously.

 

“Leena,” he answers as he raises his gloved hand to cup at her cheek.  All the injuries have healed and once again, she has a sweet face with bright eyes, full lips, and a soft chin.  He lifts that chin now.  “You are more beautiful than I remember,” he tells her sincerely. 

 

His words provoke her smile.  “I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving me,” she replies.  Suddenly, she is red faced.  This must explain her reticence.  “That day when you came for me—”

 

“You were badly hurt,” he absolves her as he lets his hand drop.  “And we had so little time alone.”

 

“Well, thank you,” she tells him.  “Thank you for all that you have done for me.  I don’t know what would have happened had you not come for me.”

 

Malgus knows what would have happened.  If she had been kept at the makeshift Republic headquarters, then Leena would already be dead in the Sith counterattack.  The enemy command post had been the Sith army’s very first target in its strategy to reclaim Ziost.  And if the Republic had transferred her off-world beforehand?  Well, then she would be an anonymous occupant of a prison somewhere until someone decided what to do about her. 

 

But he will not dwell on that now.  “All that matters is that you are safe.  Are you fully healed now?”  He asks this question even though he knows the answer is yes.

 

“Good as new,” she nods and admits, “I have been idle for weeks now so I have enjoyed plenty of rest.”

 

“Well, I know that these two,” he reaches again to pet the excited hounds, “are very happy you are back.  Boys,” he addresses the dogs, “has she given you your nightly scraps?”

 

“Oh, not yet,” Leena explains, making a face.  “I . . . er . . . was just going to the commissary now.”

 

“Are you on short rations, Ragnos?” he teases the alpha dog who can’t stop licking his gloved hands.  And now he teases her, “Have you not managed to charm the kitchen staff yet?”

 

“I . . er . . no . . .”

 

He raises an eyebrow at this. 

 

“But I always bring them something back from my dinner,” she hastens to add.  “It’s just that I haven’t gone yet.  I like to go later when it’s less crowded.”

 

“It’s past 2100 hours.  It should be less crowded now.”

 

“Yes, I was about to go.”

 

“You are eating alone?” he asks.

 

“Yes, my lord.”  This must be the crux of the matter, he sees, for again Leena is red faced.  And it dawns on Malgus now that as conspicuous as Leena was arriving on _Oppressor_ is as conspicuous as she is here now on the _Absolute_.  She is the civilian female alien amid a sea of male military humans.   She doesn’t belong here and that’s very obvious.  But being Leena, she’s not about to complain.

 

“Come and eat with me,” he offers now with a casual tone that belies his serious intent.  Even though he knows he shouldn’t, Darth Malgus starts angling hard to get her alone in his rooms.  “Catch me up on all that has happened?” he asks with what he hopes is a friendly smile.  “Keep me company?”  And that’s the invitation that lonely Leena cannot refuse.    When she nods, he starts conducting her fast out of the garden towards the elevator that will lead to the senior-most officers’ quarters, “Then, come.  Simmy and Rags, you come too.”

 

When they reach his quarters, Malgus waves open the door with the Force and ushers her inside.   His suite of rooms comprises a bedroom, a bathroom, a living room with dining area, and a private office with a small adjacent meeting room with a separate entrance.  It’s all standard issue military stuff—nothing special to see.   The only things that make his rooms different from Captain Ledbetter’s down the hall are probably their size, the two dog beds, and the datapads strewn everywhere haphazardly.   Malgus picks up a datapad now and starts ordering from the officers’ commissary. 

 

“What do you want for dinner?” he asks.

 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she tells him from over near the windows where she is looking out.  “You can see the whole ship from here,” she marvels.  “It’s enormous.”

 

“Meat and potatoes alright?”  He looks to her questioningly.

 

She nods.  “Sure.  That’s fine by me.”  Of course, it is.  Leena is low maintenance.   It’s a legacy of her slave experience.  This woman doesn’t make demands and rarely says what she wants.

 

“Okay.  With a little extra for the hounds to share,” he decides as he punches the order.  “The droid will be up with it in about twenty minutes.”   Then he shoots a glare at the smaller of the hounds.  “Simus,” he shoos the offending wolfhound away.  “Off the bed.  You have your bed.  I have mine.”

 

This comment brings a twinkle to her eyes.  “They have missed you,” she observes.  Malgus has to bite his tongue to keep from asking whether she had missed him too.

 

Instead, he busies himself with his armor.  He starts by throwing down his saber on a table and peeling off his gloves.  Then he reaches to throw back his hood and unclasp his cape.  Today, he’s not wearing the respirator.   “Tell me about Ziost.  About the job, the city, the apartment.  How was freedom?” he wants to know.

 

She crosses the room to take the cape from his hand.  “Where does this go?” she asks.  “I’ll hang it up.”

 

He gestures towards the set of doors on the far side of the bedroom.  “The door on the left has the armor,” he explains.  “Just hang it with all the rest.”  He’s a Sith Lord, so he owns plenty of black capes and armor.  This closet alone holds ceremonial armor, well-used and scratched battle armor like he has on today, and variations of lighter armor, all with the appropriate length and fabric of cape for the occasion.    Some Dark Lords are very vain about their armor, but not Darth Maglus the New.  He likes his comfortable and functional.  The only thing he is picky about is the fit of his gloves.  And, as a general rule, he disdains the pretention of a mask.  He does, however, like a hood.

 

When Leena emerges from the closet, he’s got his arms free of armor and he’s working on his torso now.  With a little more fiddling, that too lifts off and he’s down to his black t-shirt underneath.  He sees Leena’s eyes sweep over him.  She looks a bit uncomfortable now with his Sith strip tease, so he grabs his armor and heads to stow it in the closet himself.  There he retrieves some fresh clothes and excuses himself to a quick shower.  “Give me five minutes or you won’t want to eat dinner with me,” he tells her bluntly.  “I’ve been sweating in that armor all day.” 

 

Leena just nods and smiles.  She’s easy like that.

 

Five minutes later, he is clean and dressed in a simple black t shirt and pants.  It’s what he and Leena used to train in at his station all those weeks ago.  He sees now that his change of attire instantly puts her at ease.   Perhaps his full armor had reminded her too much of escaping Zoist. 

 

The droid arrives to set up dinner for two then disappears.  And now, he and Leena sit down to dinner.  If they were ordinary people, this would be like a date.  He thinks.  He’s not sure.  He’s never actually been on a date.  That’s not how the Sith court. 

 

Leena starts by telling him about life on Zoist.  How much she loved the hustle and bustle of the city.  How fun it had been to explore.  She had just been getting used to the job.  Still trying to figure out the office politics and to learn about the firm’s clients.  Her new coworkers had mostly been welcoming and eager for her help.   Her apartment had been perfectly located to get to her office and to nearby shopping areas too.  Leena tells him about her initial forays into cooking with some amusing and unappetizing results.  All in all, the life that she describes is humdrum and ordinary but it’s very exciting to her.  “I loved being free,” she tells him wistfully. 

 

“You are still free,” Malgus reminds her.  Then he renews his promise.  “When things calm down in the war and we know where things are headed, you can start again.”  He doesn’t want to settle her a second time on a Sith world only to find it overrun.   Until the Republic is ousted out of Ziost, they have a foothold into the entire Empire and further invasion is a real risk.

 

Leena doesn’t want to talk about her interrogation.  When he asks about it, she answers vaguely and looks away.  He takes the hint.   He’ll let her talk about it in her own time and in her own way.   If she wants to, that is.

 

There is also no mention of the night they spent together.  The closest they get is when she asks a little too casually, “So . . . are you married now?” 

 

He wonders a moment what she is really asking, but then he takes the question at face value and tells the truth.  “No.  We haven’t reached a deal yet.  But we’re close.  It’s a good opportunity.  I would be foolish not to take an alliance with Lord Serevin.  But no, I’m not married yet.  I’m not even engaged.  Leena, it’s just more of the same talk.”   He wants her to know that for now, at least, he is perfectly free. 

 

“But you will be married soon?” she presses.

 

He nods.  “If all goes according to plan, then yes.  We still have to iron out some details on the settlement.”  And now, Malgus asks the question that he has been wanting to ask.  “How did the Republic find you?”

 

“I got caught out after curfew,” she answers.  The full story turns out to be rather accidental and commonplace.  “I was at work when the Republic invaded.  We all stayed there at the firm for hours, too afraid to go out in the open.  When the fighting stopped, we all went home.  But the transports weren’t running, so we had to walk.  I got lost and it got late.  After they stopped me, they ran my ID.”  Leena makes a face.  “It turns out I am wanted in the Republic.”

 

“As a runaway slave?”

 

“Yes.  And I am under suspicion for the death of my old master and for the death of all his other workers and the destruction of his businesses.”  Leena looks uncomfortable now.  “They accused me of being an informant.  They thought I tipped off the Sith and helped to arrange the plot in exchange for my own freedom.”

 

“That’s not what happened, but I suppose they would see it that way,” he allows.  “We pretty much obliterated Barrabas Logistics to make an example for others to see.”

 

“Yes, well, I didn’t know that.”  She shoots him a resentful look.  “And besides, there was no way to explain the truth without talking about you,” Leena tells him plainly.  “My lord, that was something I wasn’t going to do.”

 

“My loyal Leena,” he approves with a smile.

 

“It was in my own interest too,” she admits.  “Once they knew of my connection to you, things would only have gotten worse.”  Yes, he thinks, she’s right.  “The Jedi woman knew that I was lying.  But she didn’t know about what or about who.”

 

Is she still feeling guilty about killing the Jedi?  She needs to get past that, Malgus thinks.  “She was the enemy.  She deserved to die,” he tells her unequivocally.

 

Leena nods like she agrees.  “Yes.  I’ve thought about it a lot,” she reveals.  “And I agree.  I am a citizen of the Empire now.  And your enemies are my enemies.” 

 

“I am sorry that they hurt you,” Malgus tells her quietly.  Then, he makes something akin to a declaration of feeling.  For it’s the ultimate in regard when a Sith Lord offers you revenge.  “If we had more time, Leena, I might have been able to make the others suffer more before they died too.” 

 

She nods slowly and repeats her earlier gratitude.  “Thank you for coming back for me, my lord.  I will never forget that.”

 

“I missed you,” he admits outright now.  

 

She smiles.  “I missed you too.”  They lock eyes for a moment now and she smiles again.  Malgus is pleased to see that her initial skittishness from the garden has worn off.  She is back to being the sweetly personable woman he remembers from their training sessions back on his space station.   He likes Leena at ease and confident.

“Now tell me about the war,” she encourages him.  She has her elbow on the table now, propping up her chin.   It’s cute and casual looking.  “Catch me up on you, my lord.”

 

Malgus tells her about the situation on Ziost and he doesn’t sugarcoat it.  Leena is very fortunate to be off-world now.  He tells her of the argument over battle strategy and how he is being proven right.  And he explains why he is here back at the _Absolute_ to convene a brain trust of military advisors and formulate Plan B.  He’ll probably be here at least a week, he thinks.

 

Watching pretty Leena poke at her food, Malgus thinks that he needs more of this in his life.  More of someone to talk to when the work of the day is done.   There is so much duty in his life and not enough pleasure.  Pleasure seeking has never been his thing.  He’s never been much for material goods, he doesn’t drink to excess, and indulgent food is not his vice.   Sex he enjoys, but what he and Leena share is something more than his past physical encounters.  This is more like a relationship.  And . . . it’s nice.  He could get used to dinners like this.   

 

Maybe, he thinks, in time he and Lady Cassis will have this rapport together.  Perhaps after an initial period of adjustment and if he puts some effort into romance.  Yes, he suspects that Lady Cassis would expect to be wooed.  It won’t be easy and natural feeling, Malgus sighs, not like the innate chemistry he has with Eleena Daru.  And that’s one more reason why Malgus can’t shake the feeling that this marriage alliance with Lord Serevin is a mistake.  Like he shouldn’t be so eager to be accepted by those who disdain him.  That concern and not the distraction of Ziost is the real reason why Malgus hasn’t been clamoring to close the marriage deal. 

 

“I’m going to get Jose to order you some new things,” Malgus decides now as he looks across at Leena’s dress with faded bloodstains near the top.  He doesn’t want her wearing a dress with a visible reminder of things she doesn’t want to talk about. 

 

“Thank you, my lord.  I need your help again,” she sheepishly admits.  “I’m afraid I lost almost everything you gave me on Ziost.” 

 

He thinks back on her modest, meticulously maintained apartment that he and his troopers had ransacked.   “Think of it as a reward for your loyalty.  I insist that you let me spoil you a bit.”  And right then and there, Malgus decides to give Jose instructions to outfit her like a queen. 

 

But Leena isn’t thinking about herself.  She’s thinking about his pets.  She looks across at his plate now.  “Are you done?  Can we spoil the dogs now?” she asks hopefully.  “Can I feed the rest to them?”

 

“Yes.”  Malgus whistles to the dogs who have been banished to the bedroom to keep them from begging at the table.  The hounds come bounding in to lick at the two plates Leena sets on the floor.  In three seconds or less, the plates are clean.  Then Malgus summons the serving droid that waits outside and the dishes are all removed. 

 

They are both standing by the door now watching the droid leave when Malgus, “Where are your quarters?” He’s thinking that maybe he should walk her back.  That would be the gentlemanly thing to do, right?  Plus, he’s not ready for tonight to end.

 

“I’m on C Deck.  Back above the engines with the NCOs.”

 

He makes a face.  Ledbetter put her there?  Well, probably because his notoriously proud commissioned officers would be annoyed to find a civilian bunked with their ranks.  And she is an alien Twi’lek after all.   That wouldn’t sit well either, he thinks. 

 

“Do you want me to take the dogs back down to the garden for the night?” Leena offers helpfully.  “I’m happy to do it.  It’s on my way back down. . .”

 

He declines.  “Nah, these two usually stay up here the nights on when I am on the ship.”  Simus and Ragnos would be fit to be tied if Malgus attempted to kick them out.  “Well, come on,” he decides without enthusiasm.  “I’ll walk you back down.”

 

She mistakes the meaning for his reluctance, thinking he feels obligated.  “My lord, you don’t have to do that,” she protests. 

 

“I want to.”

 

She raises an eyebrow and gives him a rare challenging look.  “Have you ever even been to C Deck?”

 

He thinks a moment.  “Maybe.  I’m not sure.  But this is my ship and I can go anywhere I want.”

 

“Truly, this is not necessary—”

 

“Leena, I insist.”

 

“But my lord,” Eleena giggles as she discloses in a stage whisper, “You’re not wearing shoes.”

 

He wiggles his toes and looks down to discover what she says is true.  And now, he chuckles too.  “I guess I need some boots—”

 

“Oh, and the cape and probably the armor too,” Eleena informs him.  “When Darth Malgus appears down on C Deck everyone down there will be expecting the full trappings of a proper Sith Lord.”  She’s serious, he sees.  “You know . . .  Dark and dangerous and deadly.  You cannot disappoint.”

 

“Should I light my sword too?” he deadpans.

 

“Probably.”  And that makes Leena giggle again.  Gods, she’s cute when she giggles.  “Goodnight, my lord,” she tells him.  “Thank you for dinner.  Thank you for everything.”  Then she calls over to the dogs who are lounging together in a heap.  “Goodnight, Rags and Simmy.  I will see you tomorrow morning for a game of fetch.”  

 

Malgus just watches, wishing she didn’t have to go.  He could stop her, of course, but he doesn’t want to do that.  And besides, here on the _Absolute_ is not the time or the place for a repeat of their one night.  This is not the privacy of his space station and he’s due on the bridge at 0600 anyway.

 

Leena looks over her shoulder now as she depresses the door release.   “My lord, if you have time and you want to train, come find me on C Deck,” she invites.  She frowns and depresses the door release again.  And . . . nothing.  “Is it broken?” she wonders aloud and looks to him in confusion.

 

“No.  I keep it locked with the Force,” Malgus reveals.

 

“Okay, well then . . . “  Leena demonstrates by waving her hand at the door.  “Come on, Sith Lord.  Do your thing.”  And now, she’s utterly adorable smiling at him and looking goofy as she pretends to use the Force.  He’ll open the door, Malgus decides, but only after a goodnight kiss.

 

Strangely enough, there is no awkwardness as he steps close and takes Leena in his arms.  She’s not surprised and it’s almost as if she was hoping for this.  Or maybe this is just one more example of how easily they get along. “Goodnight,” he whispers as his lips find hers. 

 

This isn’t a soft kiss or a chaste kiss.  It’s hungry and intense.  Malgus has had far too many fantasies of this woman to be satisfied with anything less.  Her arms reach around his neck and now Leena is arched up against him.  He can feel those full, firm breasts of hers pressed up hard against his chest.  And that just eggs him on.  One kiss becomes two.  Two kisses become three.  And now his hands are all over her backside pressing her fleshy body closer into him.

 

She’s not stopping him, so Malgus keeps going.  His hands roam up to underneath her breasts.  All he can think is that he wants her out of this plain, stained blue dress.  He wants her naked so he can appreciate her soft skin while he acts out every single lurid fantasy of her he’s ever had.  Screw 0600 on the bridge.  Malgus decides he won’t be meeting his aides until at least noon.  Coruscant can wait. 

 

She’s up against the door now.  He’s grinding into her, impatient with their barrier of clothing.  Surely, she must feel how hard he is.  And still, she doesn’t resist.  “Leena,” he gasps between deep kisses.  “You need to tell me to stop because I won’t stop on my own,” he warns.  It’s the truth.  Ever since their night together, this woman has become a craving that he cannot deny.   All his subsequent late-night fantasies were a safe and harmless habit with Leena lightyears away on Ziost.  But everything has changed now that she is here on his ship in the flesh.  “Make me stop,” he urges as again.  It’s a halfhearted request and not his usual command.  Because, of course, Darth Malgus desperately wants her to say yes.

 

He’s not disappointed, for Leena is as willing as he.  She’s definitely up for this.  “Yes, please, yes,” she breathes out.  “Now,” she urges him between kisses.  “Now, my lord.  Quick before I leave.”  And does that mean she wants him to bang her up against the wall?  No.  Leena breaks free for a moment to hike up her skirt, kick off her ankle boots and shimmy down her panties.  Then she crosses the room to perch on the edge of the bed. 

 

He is there in an instant, unbuckled, and unzipped.  He’s too ready to waste time fully undressing either of them.  She lays back, spreads her legs, and nods slightly at him.  He scoots her hips forward, positions himself, and thrusts in.  Eleena grunts softly at the intrusion while he closes his eyes a moment to revel in the feel of her.  So slick, so warm, so tight.  Yes, this is everything he remembers from that one night. 

 

Malgus is standing so he has all the leverage to apply himself with gusto to the task at hand.  For this is what he has fantasized about for so long.  He tells himself that he will take his time to do this slowly and deliberately.  But that intention not to rush evaporates in the moment.  And now, he is gorging himself on her body with emphatic movements.  It’s too much sensation and that makes it too soon.    He’s overly excited and far too primed for this.  Less than a minute later, with a groan Darth Malgus is through. 

 

She’s not, of course.

 

That is not what he had intended. “I got there too fast . . .” he pants, standing over her.  He’s feeling a fool.  Like some overeager teenage lover.

 

Leena says nothing. She just smiles up at him like she doesn’t mind.  Because, of course, Leena is not the type to mind.  And that makes him feel like a brutish jerk.  Has he used her tonight like all the other men who have used her before?  Vigorously slaking his lust and ignoring hers?  He knows that she has been mistreated even if he doesn’t know the details.  But he is not like the rest.  He has only ever wanted to treat her right.  But he has not succeeded tonight.  And he’s embarrassed about that.

 

Looking down at her now, Malgus worries aloud.  “Did I hurt you?”

 

She shakes her head. “No.  You would never hurt me.”

 

She’s right.  Though it would hurt his Sith cred terribly if anyone were to know that.  Actually, it would terribly hurt his cred if any of his fellow Dark Lords were to know that he cavorts with this slave woman now and then. 

 

Leena sits up now and encircles her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest.  She is so needy, he senses.  Needy for attention and kindness like he is needy for sex and companionship.  If she is upset or disappointed about his performance, it doesn’t show.  That’s probably because Leena has never had an opportunity to ask for what she wants before, he realizes.  It’s one more example of the passive powerlessness of being a slave. 

 

But Darth Malgus has no such issues.  He speaks up as he strokes her head and she holds tight. “Stay with me.  Be with me again just for tonight.”   Sith cred, be damned.  Malgus wants what he wants, and he wants more of Eleena Daru tonight. 

 

“No,” she surprises him with a rare moment of self-assertion.   “Not just for tonight.  For the whole time you are here.”  She wants more too, it seems.  Leena raises her head to look up at him.  “My lord,” she promises solemnly, for she knows how judgmental life is, “It will be our secret.  No one will ever know.”   Then she blushes bright red at her boldness.

 

Cupping her cheek, Malgus looks into her eyes and responds with a secret of his own to share.  “Gaius.   My real name is Gaius.  Before I was Malgus, I was born Gaius Veradun.”

 

She nods.

 

“When we are together in private, that’s who I am.”  He is blunt now about what he can offer and what he wants.  “I am not your master and you are not my slave.  I cannot be your lord and you will never be my lady.  But still . . .   Leena, you are mine and I am yours.”

 

“It will be our secret,” she promises.

 

It’s so convincingly said that he wants to believe it.  But he’s not a man who is naïve.  This is reckless, very reckless, Malgus knows.  But in a rare moment of impulse, he throws caution to the wind.  And just like that, one stolen night on his space station and a quickie on his ship become a torrid, life-changing affair.

 

END PART TWO

 

More to come . . .

 


	23. Chapter 23--story notes to part two

There’s not a lot to say about Part Two, but here it is.

 

What you say in life matters.  But how and when you say it matters too.  That’s something that gets completely lost on Lord Malgus.  He’s tone deaf to how he plays into the hands of his critics.  But so too, his insight is undeniable.  His brilliance gets him a seat at the table.  But his blunt combativeness keeps him from advancing.  He thinks everyone who dislikes him is petty, jealous, and snobby.  Some of them are.  But Malgus earns some dislike with his demeanor, too.  If he would just play the game a little better, things would be easier.  Malgus can be his own worst enemy, as Darth Angral points out.

 

A lot of the Malgus—Eleena EU stuff speaks in terms of how casually cruel our Sith Lord is to his lover.  And also, how passively accepting of this she is.  Basically, he treats her like dirt and she takes it.  And, you know, I already wrote that lovestory—it’s called _Fulcrum_.  Well, this story sets things up a bit differently.  In public, Malgus can appear distant and cruel to Eleena.  Example:  when they arrive back from Ziost and he denies her the medical help the other rescued prisoners get.  Malgus is distancing himself from her before his peers.  Is it to save face for his weakness for the slave woman?  Probably.  But it’s also a means to protect her.  Malgus knows that she will become a target to his enemies if they realize her importance to him.  So, he is conspicuous about downplaying her importance at times.  That could be observed by others as cold and cruel, but that’s not the whole story.  More of that to come.   As another fic (I forget which one) says:  it is a risk to kiss a Sith.

 

Basically, I want to take the outlines of the EU version of Malgus and Eleena and make them kinda, sorta true from an outsider’s perspective.  But though things may appear like the EU tales purport, that is not the complete truth of the matter.  But it’s how outsiders will rationally perceive it looking back.  It will also fit the narrative of a cruel distant Dark Lord like Malgus wants.  And since he won’t be contradicting it, that’s how the EU gets its warped version of the relationship.  It’s all true . . . from a certain point of view.  And yet, it’s an outright lie too.

 

Malgus intends to keep his relationship with Eleena private.  In real life, privacy lately seems like an anachronism.  There is nothing people won’t make public these days on youtube and the internet.  It’s a lot of overexposure of mundane things and slightly uncomfortable revelations in the name of empowerment and ‘keeping it real.’  And some is just obnoxious humble-bragging.  (“I’m so okay with my cellulite” posts the woman in a bikini with a near perfect figure—cue my eye roll).  It’s like people have forgotten how alluring a certain aloofness can be.  And, oh, the contrived nature of it all.  It’s like the opposite of sexy to see someone trying so darn hard.  (Beyonce—I’m looking at you!)   Haven’t these people figured out that a little mystery is what draws people in?  Anyhow, I digress.   Obviously, Malgus will not succeed in keeping Eleena a secret.  Already, people have noticed and soon everyone will figure it out.  People are curious about their leaders and everyone is slightly intrigued by others’ sex lives.  Malgus will have to make a choice for how to handle it.  More on that to come.

 

I envision the Sith Empire as something akin to the latter days of Roman Republic (note—not the Roman Empire). For those who know their Roman history, think the days of strongmen like Marius or Sulla with the elites jockeying for positions (or maybe to seize power themselves).   A few aristocratic families functioned as the ruling class and very few others were able to break in.  Even then, they were never fully accepted.  Merit only goes so far in a caste system based on genealogy.  The alliances through kinship and marriage, the military-bent and fixation on glory, the ambition for oneself disguised as ambition for Rome—those are all attributes at work in Ye Olde Sith Empire as well. 

 

What we know of this era of SW comes from a few books and a video game (none of which I have experienced firsthand).   But from what I can tell, it’s just a slightly different version of the SW we all know.  There’s a warlike Sith Empire with bad guys dressed in black trying to take over the galaxy.  Sith culture is very hierarchical and rigid (even back then, these guys loved order!).   The wizard like Dark Emperor reigns over his Dark Lords of the Force.  But the rest of the Sith plebs (who do not have the Force) all fuel the Imperial war machine.  There are Sith dreadnought ships and Sith proto-stormtrooper troopers.  They hate freedom, they hate alien diversity, they hate the Jedi . . . you know, the usual.  Seriously, every era of SW is just a reboot of the same conflict with slightly different tweaks to the archetype characters and cool riffs on the same old machinery.  You love the walkers?  Well, have a look at the First Order gorilla walkers!  Like the Death Star?  Starkiller Base is bigger!   It’s not fair to be upset that _Force Awakens_ is a reboot of _A New Hope_ because that’s basically what we all wanted anyhow.  Please, someone balance the Force so we can all move on.  (But really, who wants to move on??  It’s too fun as it is!)

 

Keep in mind that the Republic will pretty much exterminate the Sith in the long run.  The Rule of Two was as much a fact of survival as it was a reform measure.  Anyhow, the point is that history is the winner’s side of the story and that means we know the Republic side.  Pretty much all we know of the Old Sith Empire is filtered through their enemy’s eyes.  

 

Would the history of Israel read the same way if the Palestinians wrote it?   Would the history of Palestine read the same way if the Israelis wrote it?   You get my point.  These are bitter, entrenched enemies in a clash of cultures. The moral high ground exists . . .  sometimes.  But it is easily lost, too.  No one has clean hands even if their intentions are good.   So, yeah, the Jedi are smug and the Republic beats its prisoners.  But the Sith are bad, too.  Everyone can be bad!  Welcome to the real world.  Welcome to war.  Even the good guys can do bad things.  Seriously--ever seen the pictures of Nagasaki and Hiroshima?

 

But Eleena doesn’t care much about that.  She joins Team Sith because there is no other option and because she has a hot Sith Lord lover.  Malgus gives her freedom, some pretty clothes and a gun and watch out galaxy.   

 

Girls and guns are a thing where I live.  I grew up in what is sometimes (pejoratively) referred to as ‘gun culture.’   My father kept a loaded 45 under the front seat of his car.  I remember him regularly cleaning shotguns at our kitchen table.  When I turned twenty-one, he gave me a revolver as a birthday present because I would soon be living alone.  And in this neck of the woods, a woman living alone owns a gun.  If she doesn’t, it’s the job of her menfolk to get her one.  I am not kidding.

 

It’s not just my kooky clan.  Mr. Blue’s secretary was so worried that someone would steal the building supplies in her driveway before the contractor would arrive the next morning (it was after a big flood and stuff like that happened because building supplies were scarce) that she spent the night in a lawn chair in her front yard with a shotgun borrowed from her ex-husband in her hands.  She’s a fiftyish dowdy and soft-spoken woman who fears God and bakes brownies to bring to the office.  She wouldn’t be rude to anyone let alone be violent.  But she was damned well going to shoot anyone who tried to rustle up her drywall under cover of darkness.  Yep, there is even an upscale ladies indoor shooting range in town (named for a Greek goddess no less!).   My bunko group went there a few years ago.  And every woman in certain zip codes owns or has paged through the ‘Chicks with Gun’ coffee table book that features strange ‘American Gothic’ type portraits of women brandishing their weapons.  Naturally, some are in ballgowns and wedding dresses.  Because the message is that these women can take care of themselves even if they look wholesome and pretty.  This strange frontier/Scarlett O’Hara self-reliance meets Third Wave Feminism meets the Second Amendment cuts across every income level and every demographic.  And it’s shockingly real.  This is not some internet extremist subculture.  It's the local Junior League.

 

Anyhow, the idea that a gun is empowering—that violence is empowering—is very Sith.  Eleena doesn’t know it yet, but she’s on her way to becoming the armored catsuit wearing Sith sidekick with a holster slung across her wide hips.  Sex and violence are the way to an angsty Sith’s heart after all.  And is anyone ready for some fluff in this story?  I know I am.  More to come. 


	24. Chapter 24

In the aftermath, Lord Malgus is collapsed on her, his heavy weight pushing her deep into the mattress.  It is delicious, Eleena thinks.   Then he rolls off and they are side by side.  As they both stare at the ceiling above his bed, Malgus brings the topic up yet again.

 

“You should leave tomorrow for the station.  You will be safer there.”  He is still breathing heavy from his exertion and so he pants out his words.   “Then as soon as I know the direction the war is heading, we will get you settled somewhere for a new life.”  Malgus turns his head to catch her eye.  “You will be safe this time.  I promise.”

 

Eleena doesn’t respond with words.  She rolls up close to him, throws her arm across his barrel chest, and throws her leg over his.   Their lovemaking may be through, but she still craves the feel of him.   She will never get enough of this man.  He lifts his arm now so she can scoot over to snuggle up close and lay her head on his chest.  It’s a mixed message if there ever was one.   He’s inviting her closer even as he tells her to leave. 

 

“So, we are agreed?” he persists.

 

“No.  Not yet.”

 

“Leena—"

 

She yawns into his skin.  “I’m not leaving until you leave for the battlefront.”  He’s not cheating her out of the few days they have left.  He thinks he’ll only be here for a week or ten days at the most anyway.   Lord Malgus is on furlough to compose his preliminary plan to invade Coruscant.

 

“I don’t want you to leave but you must,” he rumbles.  “For your own sake.”  But as if to belie his words once again, his strong arms come up to clutch her closer.  And, oh.  That feels so good.  When she’s in his arms, it’s like nothing can hurt her.  “I can get Jose here to collect you tomorrow,” he tries again.

 

This is a conversation they have rehearsed several times already.  Ever since that first morning after here on the _Absolute_ , Lord Malgus has felt compelled to warn her over and over again about the risks of their romance.  It’s like he needs her to reaffirm that she accepts the consequences.  It’s not exactly an argument, it’s more like a negotiation.  And Malgus’ conviction waxes and wanes each time.  But it’s clear he is having second thoughts.  Still . . . sometimes, she can’t decide if he is convincing her or convincing himself.

 

Tonight, she tells him her usual rebuttal.  “I have waited many years to make decisions of my own.  And I decide to stay.”

 

“It is too dangerous.  This will never stay a secret on the ship.”  He’s stroking her lekku softly and it feels wonderfully comforting.  Eleena sighs contentedly into his chest.  But he keeps making warnings.  “My enemies may try to hurt you if they learn of us.  I don’t want you to leave, but it will keep you safe.”

 

“I’ll take the risk.”  Ziost was a risk that was supposed to be safe and look how that turned out, she thinks.  As far as Eleena’s concerned, the safest place for her is with Darth Malgus himself.  “You’re worth the risk.  I’ll take the risk,” she doubles down now.

 

“Well, I will not.”

  

“You cannot decide for both of us,” she reminds him mildly as she strokes his chest.  Beneath the thatch of wiry hair she can feel the raised skin of yet another battle scar.  All over this man from head to toe are the marks of a lifetime of violence.   Eleena has made it her mission to find and kiss each and every one.

 

“You don’t get to decide, Leena.  I decide everything on this ship and everything in my household,” he announces.

 

Yes, yes, she knows.  But whatever.   “I think for myself,” she boldly declares her newfound independence.  “I am not your crew.  I am not your slave.  I am not your wife.”

 

He sighs.  “You’re not anything.  That’s the problem.  That’s why my enemies will think you are fair game.”

 

“You talk too much,” Eleena chides as she silences him with a kiss. This is how they usually end this conversation--with more lovemaking.  Truly, she cannot get enough of this man.   And despite all his urgings to leave, Malgus is a more than enthusiastic participant.   

 

It’s not that Eleena doesn’t take his concerns seriously.  It’s that she has had so little happiness and intimacy in life that she is unwilling to walk away from it now.  This is the difference in their backgrounds showing, she suspects.  Malgus is a man with a burning sense of ambition and an attitude of entitlement to success.  Eleena has none of this.  She’s willing to take whatever she can get.  And she’s not looking to better deal.  And, anyway, she doubts seriously that she would ever find a man more noble and caring than Gaius Veradun, Darth Malgus the New in any event.  Every time the Sith Lord renews his concerns for her safety she is reminded of that fact.  If this were all about him or if he were using her for sex, he wouldn’t bother trying to push her away.  Ironically, all his talk of her leaving has Eleena more determined than ever to stay. 

 

She has basically moved into Lord Malgus’ quarters.  It’s more discreet this way, he tells her and Eleena doesn’t resist.  Truth be told, there is nothing discreet about their relationship.  That’s chiefly because there are so few women on the _Absolute_ and no aliens around but her.  As a result, Eleena is very conspicuous.  People see where and when she comes and goes.  Eleena becomes even more noteworthy when the beginnings of her new wardrobe arrive.  Her two new dresses are lavish and eye catching.   Definitely designed for show. 

 

“You are very beautiful,” Lord Malgus tells her with sincerity as she models a new dress for him. 

 

“I am very noticeable, too,” she observes, shaking out the long fluid skirt that has the barest suggestion of cling as she walks.  She’s never owned anything half as grand.  She’s a little dismayed by her reflection in the mirror.  Is that really her?

 

Malgus grins and tells it like it is.  “Everyone is going to be looking at you anyway.  So I told Jose to give them something to see,” he reasons.

 

Eleena turns back to the mirror and raises an eyebrow.  “It’s a bit much to throw around a ball with the dogs, don’t you think?”

 

“I love it,” he disagrees.

 

But he’s missing the point.  “Gaius, this is not a dress your accountant would purchase.  It’s fit for a queen.”

 

“My men won’t know that.  What do they know about dresses?  They’ll just think it’s pretty.”

 

She’s not so sure.  “Some of them have wives and girlfriends.  They know how much a dress like this costs.”

 

“You’re worth it,” he smiles.  “And I refuse to look at you in that bloodstained dress.”

 

That settles that.  But when it comes to being conspicuous, it’s not all on her.  The Sith Lord himself garners plenty of attention.  As the ship’s commander, Lord Malgus draws every eye in the room and his words and actions are scrutinized and retold.  That’s why it’s not long before she and Lord Malgus become an open secret among the senior officer ranks.   

 

It happens fast.  The next time Captain Ledbetter’s most junior lieutenant wanders down to C Deck to check on the civilian Twi’lek woman, he knocks and there is no answer.  He knocks again and calls out.  After a few more attempts, he uses the override code to open the door.  She’s not there.  Her neighbor in the adjacent room who is just now returning from getting off shift confirms that he hasn’t seen the woman in days.  She’s always very quiet, the neighbor says.  But lately, it’s like she’s not even there.   That sets the lieutenant off wandering to the commissary and then to sickbay and anywhere else he can think to reasonably locate Eleena Daru.  But he can’t find her anywhere.  Frustrated, he returns to the bridge to inform Captain Ledbetter of the bad news. 

 

“What is it, Lieutenant?”  The Captain is testy this morning.  Having Lord Malgus hanging around these last few days breathing down his neck isn’t helping things.

 

Glancing warily over at the looming Dark Lord at the prow of the bridge, the lieutenant apologetically makes his report. “Sir, I cannot locate the refugee woman.  I went down to check on her as usual and she is not on C Deck.”

 

“When was she last accounted for?” the irritated Captain asks. 

 

“Four days ago.  She knows when I come by and she’s always there.  Sir, she’s cooperative like that.  This is highly unusual.”

 

And that’s when Lord Malgus who has been listening in interrupts.  “Leena is in the garden.  She’s below us right now.  She’s fine.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” the lieutenant nods.  “I will just go confirm, Sir,” he tells the Captain.  Ledbetter nods absently and the lieutenant salutes and walks off.  He heads down to A-Deck to the strange garden that is totally at odds with the rest of the interior of the dreadnought ship.    No one goes here mostly because it’s the den of those two beastly dogs Malgus inflicts on his crew.  No one wants to risk a bite.  But the lieutenant is a diligent man who knows his duty.  He checks his sidearm and sets for stun.  Then, he takes a deep breath and steps in.

 

Eleena Daru is there.  The lieutenant sighs in relief.  There is no mistaking her stately blue alien form as she stands tossing a ball for the dogs to chase.  But had she not been a Twi’lek, there’s no way the lieutenant would have recognized her.  The stained blue dress he saw day after day is replaced by a diaphanous ivory gown richly sprinkled with gold embroidery.  The trim on her dress matches the thick gold ribbons that are entwined around her lekku in a dramatic crisscross pattern.  The new clothes, taken together with the jeweled headband he is used to seeing, make her look almost regal.  Like she is Ryloth’s lost queen and not some mysterious refugee woman rumored to have been rescued only because Malgus saw her kill a Jedi and was impressed. 

 

“Are you looking for me?”  Eleena calls as she catches sight of the lieutenant.  

 

And now he sees that the woman’s broad smile is the most disarming sight of all.  Eleena Daru looks happy in a way that the lieutenant has never seen before.  It makes her ravishingly beautiful and it confirms all the speculation that this refugee woman is not who she pretends to be.   Not to the Republic that had arrested and interrogated her, and not to the Sith warship that has taken her in.  Maybe she’s a slave.  Maybe she’s an accountant like the Captain says.  Maybe she really is an exiled queen.  But she’s surely someone.  And she is important to Lord Malgus who calls her by a nickname and knows where she is.

 

“You were not on C Deck,” the man answers her in a tone of reproof, his eyes glancing with alarm to the dogs who race back towards them with the ball.  The lieutenant has his right hand resting on his sidearm and Eleena takes the hint. 

 

“Rags!  Simmy!” she orders. “Sit.”  They do. 

 

The lieutenant takes note of this too. 

 

He now dutifully asks his usual two questions.  “Are you ill?   Do you require assistance?”

 

“No, thank you.  I’m fine, Lieutenant.”   Eleena is better than fine, actually.   She’s never been so good.

 

“Well, then,” the man stammers, still eyeing her with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.  “I’ll be going then.”

 

“Wait—”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you for checking on me, Lieutenant.”  Eleena smiles a little weakly as she softly requests, “Please tell the Captain that there is no need to check on me any further.  I am fine.”

 

The lieutenant nods.  “You’re not living on C Deck anymore, are you?” he blurts out.  

 

“Uhm . . . “

 

He reddens.

 

She reddens. 

 

“Forget I said that.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Eleena mumbles back.   

 

That moment is clear confirmation for Eleena that she and Lord Malgus aren’t fooling anyone.  And really, that’s no surprise.  Surely the mess hall has wondered why the resident Sith Lord consistently orders two meals instead of one.  The occasional working meal with a colleague might be understandable.  But not every time.   And surely someone has noticed that Lord Malgus just happens to wander down to the arboretum to take a break when she’s there.  Darth Malgus usually has a quartet of aides-de-camp following in his wake so it is noteworthy when he is alone.  And once or twice he and Eleena may have been seen walking together in the _Absolute_ ’s corridors.  It was in a restricted area reserved for senior officers, but still . . .  Seven days into their supposedly secret affair, Eleena worries plenty of people already know.  But if they don’t already suspect what’s going on, they will over time.  Because unless she is prepared to stay locked in Lord Malgus’ quarters night and day, people are bound to notice that she lives with him.

 

Eleena realizes now how foolish she was to think that they could keep this a secret.  And that puts a slightly different cast on Lord Malgus’ repeated warnings about his enemies.  Because more and more, Leena suspects that’s a risk she cannot avoid.

 

When Eleena returns to Lord Malgus’ quarters later that day, there is yet another delivery droid waiting outside with more boxes forwarded from Jose.   All for her.  Eleena dismisses the droid and then peers at the boxes one by one. 

 

“Aren’t you going to take them inside and open them?”  It’s the Sith Lord himself wandering around the corner unexpectedly.  He’s looking very pleased with himself.

 

“Two of these are from Coruscant.”  She’s surprised.

 

“Yes.  We still trade with the enemy.  Quite a bit.  Actually,” he admits, “those boxes were part of an experiment of mine.  I’m looking at trade as an angle for my invasion ruse.  It will be hard to amass enough firepower in the Core while still maintaining the element of surprise.  I need a good gimmick, and perhaps trade is it.  Come.” He waves the door open with the Force.  Then he grabs two boxes and she does the same.

 

As she suspects, the boxes are full of luxurious clothes.  “More?” she turns to him.  “Gaius, this is too much,” Eleena protests as she looks down at the rich grey silk that spills across her lap.  “I’m dressed like a queen on a warship and it’s tipping people off.“  She tells him about her interaction with the Lieutenant in the arboretum earlier.

 

He shrugs it off.  “Ledbetter and his men are trustworthy.  My Captain saw you first on Dromund Kaas and he knew you were at the station.  You had pretty dresses back then too,” he points out.  “But it’s only for a few more days.  After I leave, Jose will be along to fetch you back to the station.  You can stay there until we find a new home for you.”

 

Eleena conspicuously says nothing to this.

 

Suddenly, Lord Malgus’ comlink starts buzzing, as do the five or more datapads haphazardly strewn about the living area.   Whatever this message is, it’s very urgent.  The Dark Lord checks his com and says aloud, “That’s Angral.  I’ve got to take this.”  He rises from his seat and heads for his office next door, issuing orders as he goes in typical Malgus fashion.  “Unwrap that grey one and put it on.  Then, when I’m done, I can talk it off,” he smirks over his shoulder.

 

Eleena aims to please, so she dutifully dons the new gown.  She is investigating the matching shoes that come with it when Lord Malgus walks back into the room.  His face looks grim.  Something must be wrong.

 

“I’m leaving tonight for Ziost,” he reports.  “Things have taken a turn for the worse.  I am recalled to the front.”

 

“Oh,” she breathes out, putting the slippers down.  “After dinner?” she asks hopefully.

 

“No.  Now.”  Lord Malgus clicks his comlink again and orders an underling to prepare his shuttle.  Then he contacts his senior aide-de-camp and informs him of their imminent departure.  Talk of dresses is over.  The Sith Lord is all business now.

 

Still processing the meaning of this news, Eleena watches in silence as Malgus starts collecting datapads and tossing them into a bag.  Next, he throws in some of the datafiles with the invasion strategy he’s been working on.  They are followed by a small toolkit she recognizes from the time she watched him clean his lightsaber. 

 

Lord Malgus glances up at her and that galvanizes Eleena into action.  “Okay.  Let me help,” she volunteers.  And now she is fetching some clothes as he begins poking around at his closet full of armor.  She grabs socks, undershirts, and pants.  What else does he need?  Eleena pokes around and finds several complete sets of clothes to pack.  “Don’t forget this,” she stuffs his sleep respirator into the bag as well. 

 

He’s already begun slipping into his well-worn, most comfortable battle armor.  It’s the set with the detachable respirator for when he needs it.  He’s yanking on the heavy gauntlet gloves when Eleena reaches to fasten his cape for him.   She pulls up the hood like he prefers.  It makes him ooze gravitas, she thinks as she stands back to admire him.   Such a fierce, imposing man this is.   

 

In five minutes flat, he is ready for war.  So stately and handsome in his full regalia, even if it’s the everyday version.  She’s never seen him in the dressy ceremonial armor that’s in the closet.  That must be something to see, Eleena thinks wistfully.

 

“Did we get it all?” she asks as he checks the contents of the bag.

 

“Yes,” he nods.  Then he turns in the direction of the open door to his office.  With the help of the Force, a small blaster floats from that room into his hand.  He checks the safety and tosses it to her.  “Here. This is for you.  I’ll have someone bring you a new shin holster.  I want you to wear that blaster under your dress just like before.  It’s for safety and for peace of mind.  It will be a day or so before Jose will show up to fetch you.  He’s on Dromund Kaas now.”

 

Eleena turns the weapon over in her hands.  It’s very much like the one he had given her that the Republic soldiers confiscated on Ziost.  Suddenly, she’s afraid to look up.  She knows what’s coming next.  Her heart starts racing and she’s beginning to sweat.  Eleena gulps back the flood of emotion that now threatens to bubble up. 

 

“Leena,” he begins.  His eyes are soft brown now.  Full of compassion.  It is the furthest thing from the bright feral yellow eyes of the Dark Side.  “Leena, I’m sorry this is so rushed.  But maybe it’s better this way.”

 

“No,” she reflexively croaks.  The word comes out almost of its own volition. 

 

He steps forward and starts issuing instructions.  “Make yourself at home back at the station.  Jose will figure out a plan for you when the time comes.  We will get you a new life on a safe world.  I promise.”

 

“No.”  She bites her lip to keep it from trembling.  Suddenly, she’s on the verge of tears.  One week.  They only had one week together.  They were just getting started.

 

“Look at me.”  His eyes are searching hers now.  “I will always care for you and I will always help you.   You need only ask.”

 

She nods, not trusting herself to speak. 

 

“We always knew this was going to end.” 

 

Yes, she knows.  He’s been talking about them ending even before they began.  But she’s not ready to move on.  Instead, standing there feeling her heart breaking, Eleena speaks her mind.  She’s been thinking about this for days, but now the issue is suddenly ripe.  Plus, she has nothing left to lose now that he’s leaving.  It makes her reckless.  “I’m not leaving,” she whispers back.  “I won’t go.”

 

That gets his attention.  

 

Eleena lifts her chin and summons her courage. “No,” she repeats louder this time.  She endeavors to remain calm.  “I’m not leaving,” she says again.  “I’m staying here for when you get back.”

 

He lifts an eyebrow.  And now, her courage wavers so she forces the words out.  Does he know how hard it is for her to be this direct?  It’s difficult for a slave woman born and bred to say what she wants out of life.  But, here goes.  Eleena takes another deep breath.  “I don’t want this to end,” she half wails.  “I don’t want to say goodbye forever.  This is just goodbye for a few weeks or however long you will be at the battlefront.”   Seven days is not enough.  She is not ready for their romance to end.  This past week have been the best days of her life.   Happiness is so beguiling at long last that Eleena wants to grab hold tight and never let go.

 

Is he angry at her defiance?  Eleena peeps up and sees no.  If anything, he looks sad.  Or maybe it’s resigned.  He responds quietly.  “Leena, I’m going to war.  The campaign on Ziost is failing.  That’s why Angral called me back.  I could be gone for months.  Or maybe days.  I don’t know.”

 

“I understand.  However long it takes, I will be waiting.”

 

“You can’t stay here.  People will talk—“

 

“They are already talking,” she protests.  “They were speculating about us before you even came back to the ship.  And now, people already know.  Don’t you see--the harm is done.  The risk is here already, Gaius.”  She sucks in a breath and admits, “I was foolish to think we could keep this a secret.  We didn’t even last a week before people figured it out.”

 

He frowns at her words but does not dispute them.   “You would be safer at the station.”

 

“The people who know about us are your own men on your own ship.  You trust them anyway—” she contends.  Eleena still fails to see why he is so concerned for her safety on the _Absolute_.

 

“There are always spies,” he objects.   Then he sighs and looks away.  “And this is impossible anyway.”

 

“Why?  You make all the decisions here.  So if you decide to keep a lover on your ship, you can.”  Why is this such a problem?  He’s the boss and he makes the rules.

 

“It’s not that easy.”

 

“Why not?” she demands again sounding a little petulant.

 

“I’ll be getting married soon.”  Yes, she knows.  Eleena is so jealous of bitchy Lady Cassis that it hurts.  “It’s not fair to my wife to keep you on my ship,” Lord Malgus says bluntly.

 

“I understand.”

 

“I want this marriage to work.  I can’t keep you on the side and enter into marriage in good faith.”

 

“I understand.  But you’re not married yet,” she points out.

 

“We’ve talked about this,” he complains, sounding exasperated.  And now he again raises the issue of their parting for her benefit.  “There is a war going on so things could change fast if the Republic shows up.  Plus, I have enemies on our side.  It isn’t safe for you here.” 

 

“You’re only looking at the downside again,” she says softly.  “Don’t you see how good we could be together?”

 

“I’m a realist,” he corrects.   Yes, she knows.  This man doesn’t sugarcoat anything.  She doubts he knows how.   “I feel responsible for you.  And you don’t understand the Sith.  We are a violent sort.”

 

“You remember how we met, right?  I tried to poison you,” she reminds him.

 

“That was an accident—”

 

“And then the Republic found your ship and blew it up—”

 

“There’s a war going on—”

 

“And then, we were rescued only to have your Sith buddy pull his sword on you—”

 

“Adraas is not my buddy—”

 

“So, yes.  I get it!  The first day I met you, you were almost killed three times!”  She is loud and insistent now.  It’s very unlike her.  But she feels her chance at happiness slipping away and she’s panicking a little.  “Everyone on both sides wants to kill you.  Gaius, I get it—you’re a very dangerous man.”

 

Darth Malgus nods sagely.  “I am marked for death,” he proclaims like it’s an accolade.

 

She calls him on it.  “You say that almost like you are proud . . . “

 

He is and he admits it.  “It’s a testament to my success that others are jealous and covet my power.  But it has drawbacks and it will put you at risk.  We’ve been over this before,” he grinds out.

 

Eleena makes a face.  “Are you going to give this same speech to Lady Cassis?” she boldly asks. 

 

“I won’t have to.  Lady Cassis is a Sith.  She knows all of this.   And she’s not looking to live on my warship in the middle of a blockade.  Plus, she has the Force to sense danger and she has an influential family who would certainly avenge any attack.  My enemies know that, Leena.  It is an effective deterrent that will protect my wife.”  He levels her a frank look now.  “But it won’t protect you as mistress.”

 

Mistress.  So she’s his mistress now.  That sounds sort of romantic, Eleena thinks.  She takes another deep breath and nods.  “I know the risks.” 

 

“No,” he counters grimly.  “You only think you do.  This is too risky!”

 

“I don’t see that.  I don’t see that at all,” she complains, feeling exasperated herself now.  And maybe she ought to be too proud to beg a man to want to be with her, but Eleena is a slave and she has no pride.  And besides, this man is worth humbling herself for anyway.  “What’s really going on?   Gaius, be honest with me,” she pleads.

 

“I am being honest,” he grumbles.  “Do you think I want it this way?”

 

“I don't know.   Do you?”  Because from that first night together here on the _Absolute_ , Malgus has been talking about saying goodbye.  It filled her with dread to listen to his repeated warnings.  Not because she was afraid of those fears coming to fruition, but because she was afraid of this moment now.   This abrupt parting feels all wrong.  Like this is the biggest mistake of her life.

 

“I can’t give you anything but danger,” he growls as he reaches to fasten his saber at his hip.  He looks away again.  “You deserve better than me.  In time, you will see that.”  He hoists up his bag and turns back to her.  “Ask Ledbetter for anything you need.  He will give you an ETA for Jose.  It won’t be more than a day or two at the most.” 

 

She says nothing.  She just stands there staring him down as she fiddles nervously with the gun in her hands.

 

Malgus scowls, drops his bag, and walks over to rest his gloved hands heavily on her shoulders.  He drops a light kiss on her brow.  “Goodbye, Leena,” he whispers.  “I will miss you far more than you know.”  Then, he heads for the door.

 

“Wait!”  Her voice stops him.  “Tell me the truth.  Is the reason you want me to leave because you are ashamed of me?”  Eleena asks this in a matter of fact tone of voice.  Its stoicism is completely at odds with the terrible look on her face.  But she has to know the truth.  “This isn’t about the war and your enemies.  This isn’t about your wife.  This is about me, right?”  A wayward tear leaks out one eye and she furiously brushes it away.  “This is because I’m a slave.  I’m not good enough, am I?” she asks in a choked voice.


	25. Chapter 25

Seven nights straight of Leena is just the stress release he needs.  Night after night, she matches his passion.  Afterwards, she rests easy with her head on his chest as he strokes her lekku.  How soft and warm she feels.  So comforting.  He is surrounded by hostile, prickly people even among his own kind.  So it feels good to relax. The thought has crossed his mind that he should keep her.  Leena is very easy to have around.   But he knows that’s not possible.

 

And Malgus being Malgus, he’s overthinking things.  He can’t decide if this past week is the best thing that has ever happened to him or the worst.  If this is a fantasy come to life or a slow-paced nightmare unfolding.  Darth Malgus is a master strategist who thinks through all the scenarios, but he tends to focus on the worst case.  That’s how his mind works.  He’s a worrier by nature.  He hides it well, but he’s a man who frets.   And now, with Leena living in his quarters on the _Absolute_ , he has a whole new set of issues to obsess about. 

 

They are not fooling anyone.  If his senior officers haven’t figured it out yet, they soon will.  Malgus has been a naval man his whole career so he knows that there is no way to hide this affair on his ship.   People are curious and they gossip.  And so, the select group he interacts with will let the truth leak out eventually.   Either that or people will see him and Leena together somewhere or notice Leena’s fancy new clothes and put it together.   It’s a good thing this is ending soon because Malgus has no legitimate justification to keep her around long term.  Just keeping Leena on the ship past a short interim period is a telltale sign.  His men aren’t blind and they’re not stupid. 

 

One solution would be to hide Leena in his quarters but he refuses to keep her a captive.  Malgus has only ever wanted Leena to be free.   He is her Sith Master, not her slave master.  And besides, too many people have already seen her onboard.  It’s too late to stash her away.  Plus, the truth has a way of coming out.  Deceptions are hard to pull off in the long term. 

 

And, really, the issue isn’t so much his crew—Malgus seriously doubts that anyone on the _Absolute_ would risk plotting against Leena.  The issue is the Republic and other Sith Lords.  For now, his ship is safely located but it won’t always be that way.  And if this Coruscant invasion idea takes off, the _Absolute_ will be crawling with his rivals.  Yes, he decides, it’s a good thing this affair will be coming to an end soon.  It’s safer this way.  He and Leena can enjoy each other’s company and then go their separate ways like before.  He’s been clear about that plan from the beginning, even if privately he’s not very enthusiastic. 

 

It’s not like he hasn’t kept a woman before.  It’s been years, but he’s done it from time to time.  But those were always impoverished Sith army widows with whom he had an arrangement.  It was nothing particularly personal.  Those weren’t committed relationships.  They were a time honored, discreet, quasi-respectable way for a bachelor to get sex with no strings attached.  Malgus outgrew the need for that sort of thing years ago, preferring to sublimate those desires into Darkness. 

 

It had worked just fine until, out of the blue, Eleena Daru arrived.

 

She’s not here for his power or his credits or his influence.  She makes no demands whatsoever on him.  And as far as he can tell, she has no expectations either.  This is the furthest thing from the marriage arrangements he is negotiating with Lord Serevin.  And it’s all so . . . not-Sith.   And that’s a bit refreshing, to be honest.  Leena is all about him for himself.   There is something very honest and earnest about her.

 

And that’s why when they discuss the future, Malgus himself is torn.  Leena’s repeated refusals to leave have worn his shaky resolve down.  He has basically agreed to keep her around until he next leaves for Ziost.  What’s a few more days, he tells himself.

 

She is nice to have around and it’s not merely the sex.  It’s the company.  He can’t remember the last time anyone fussed over him.  The Sith aren’t known for being nurturing.  But here is Leena making sure he doesn’t fall asleep without his respirator on and rubbing bacta salve into the spot on his shoulder where his heavy armor irritates an old scar.  Just this morning, she slipped into the shower behind him and started soaping up his back.  All this behind-closed-doors domesticity feels so easy that it is beguiling.   He could definitely get used to living like this.

 

Plus, every time Leena tells him she doesn’t care about the danger and that he is worth the risk, Malgus falls a little harder for her.   What can he say?   He’s a Dark Lord and he lives for danger.  Hearing Leena volunteer for risk just to be with him is an undeniable turn on.  And her firm certainty only makes Malgus want to protect her even more.  For there is something about having her believe in him that makes him want to believe in her.  Her complete trust in him makes him want to trust her back.   This past week has been a seven-day crash course in intimacy and a marathon of sex.  Malgus has fallen hard and fallen fast.  Part of him never wants it to end.  But he’s a man who faces facts head on, so he knows their split is coming. 

 

He just didn’t expect it to come so soon.  But the conversation with Lord Angral changes things fast.  Now, there will be no last night together.  No tender romantic parting.  This will be abrupt and rushed.  Everything he didn’t want.  But maybe that’s for the best. 

 

As he finishes donning his armor and turns back to bid Leena goodbye, she starts to balk.  He knew she would, and part of him is glad that she does.  Enslaved Leena won’t stand up for herself about much in life except for this.   For them.    She won’t confront or contradict him about anything but their future together.  And that’s so completely her.   For this is the woman who once told him that love trumps power.  Well, maybe in the self-fulfillment seeking Republic it’s considered romantic to risk all for love.  But a glory-driven plotting Sith like himself can’t relate.  It’s just . . . foolish. 

 

Patiently Malgus talks sense to her sentiment.  He’s a man who makes decisions with his head and not with his heart.  But he’s not getting through.  It’s not that she can’t understand this.  She’s a very smart woman.  But Leena stubbornly refuses to accept that this is the end.  But maybe she just needs time, he decides. 

 

Time is not something he has right now.  So, he walks over to rest his gloved hands on her shoulders.  He drops a light kiss on her brow.  “Goodbye, Leena,” he whispers.  “I will miss you far more than you know.”  Then, he heads for the door before he changes his mind.

 

“Wait!”  Her voice stops him.  “Tell me the truth.  Is the reason you want me to leave because you are ashamed of me?”  Leena asks this in a matter of fact tone of voice.  Its stoicism is completely at odds with the terrible look on her face.  “This isn’t about the war and your enemies.  This isn’t about your wife.  This is about me, right?”  A wayward tear leaks out one eye and she furiously brushes it away.  “This is because I’m a slave.  I’m not good enough, am I?”

 

And what does he say to that?  “Leena—”

 

“Would things be different if I were human?” she chokes out.  “If I were a Sith lady and not a slave?”

 

Yes.  Well, maybe.  He dodges the question.  The ‘what ifs’ of this relationship are many and he has lain awake analyzing them all.  But that doesn’t change the situation.  So, Malgus levels with her.  “I wish a lot of things were different.  But they are not.  I cannot offer you a future.  I cannot marry you.  I cannot give you children or a home.”  She’s getting nothing beneficial out of this relationship as far as he can tell. 

 

“I don’t care.  Besides, no one marries a slave,” she points out the obvious.

 

“You’re not a slave anymore.” It frustrates him that Leena doesn’t want more for herself.  “You deserve better than life as the other woman.  You deserve a man who will marry you.  Who will honor you.  Who will support you—”

 

“All I need is you,” Eleena disavows his argument completely.   “All I ask is that you care for me.  I don’t need a commitment.  I know you can’t do that.”  Another tear drips from her eye.  “We could bring each other such happiness,” she says in a hopeful voice.  “I know we could.”

 

He shakes his head.  Malgus is his usual blunt self.  But not just because that is his nature, but because Leena needs to hear this.  “All I will bring you is danger and disappointment.  Trust me, it’s better this way.  I don’t like it either,” he admits.  “In fact, I hate this.  I wish you could stay.  But that just proves how important it is to end it now before things get out of hand.  Already, there are feelings involved . . . “  He scowls because he’s talking about himself as much as her.  This past week has been an amazing mix of intensity and relaxation, of sex and companionship. 

 

“Leena, I am going to marry Serevin’s daughter.  And that means the longer this goes on, the more you will get hurt in the end.  It’s better this way.”

 

She is quiet a long moment.  Did he succeed in getting through to her?  When she next speaks, Leena’s face looks like she might burst into tears but her voice is very composed.  What she says cuts him to the bone.  “It’s okay.  I understand.  I’m a slave and I’m a Twi’lek and I’m not very pretty . . . I’m blue and I’m so big . . . I’m not very attractive and I know it,” she rambles on.  “I was never the cute girl even when I was young . . .”   She’s feeling unwanted and rejected and he can relate for reasons she doesn’t understand.   But he listens as she collects herself.  “Gaius, I want you to be honest with me.  Don’t use fearmongering to let me down easy.  If this is just a fling and it’s done and you want to move on, that’s okay . . . you can say that you don’t want me around . . . I’ve heard a lot worse, my lord.”

 

Fearmongering?  Did she say fearmongering?  And she’s calling him ‘my lord’ again and that’s not good.  “Leena—”

 

She interrupts.  None of his officers would dare do that.  “It’s okay if this was just sex.  After a week, you’re probably tired of me anyway . . . “

 

He is cringing inwardly for her as he listens to the insecurities pouring out her mouth.  Leena hasn’t really heard anything he’s said even though they have been over this time and again.  All she’s heard is the voices in her head telling her how inadequate she is.  It’s clear that Leena believes that she is the reason he wants her to leave.  With sigh, Darth Malgus decides to come completely clean. 

 

He drops his bag and stomps forward into the room.  “I’m doing this to protect you.  Because I care about you.  I don’t give a damn what others think about us.  There is no shame in being your lover.”  She looks confused rather than assured, so he continues.  “Let me tell you why I worry for your safety.  Are you ready for this?  Because it’s an ugly tale.  I killed my Master Darth Vindican years ago.  You know that.  Well, when the Sith Master dies, either his sons or his Apprentices inherit from him.  Vindican’s son was dead, so I inherited in his place.  I got his wealth, his properties, his allies, his enemies, and his family.  His wife and his unmarried daughter became my responsibility.  I had fostered with Vindican for years by then.  His wife was like a mother to me.  His daughter was like a little sister.  Neither was happy with my killing Vindican, but in time they came to accept it.  And they knew that I regretted it.  It was a stupid move in retrospect.”

 

Leena is eyeing him warily now, clearly wondering where his story is headed.  “This doesn’t end well, does it?”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” Malgus vents out loud.  “I was a young man then.  Brash and full of ambition.  Willing to flout convention and challenge authority.  I was far less tempered then than I am now.  There is a foolishness to youth that seems like courage at the time.  Looking back, I see that I was flush with my new war hero status from Korriban.”  He shakes his head as he remembers the mistakes of the past.  “Hubris is the vice of many a Sith.  But I learned my lesson the hard way.”

 

Malgus makes a face as he recalls the ill-fated plot.  “I knew my background would be an impediment to my success and so I set out to marry well.  No good family would have me, of course.  It wasn’t just because of my low origins, it was because I killed Vindican, too.   But I didn’t let that stop me.  I plotted to romance a daughter of a very well-connected clan.  She was much indulged, not unlike Lady Cassis.  I thought that perhaps if she were to argue hard for the match, she might succeed in convincing her family where I had failed.  I was trying to recruit her as an ally to my cause.” 

 

“Did it work?”

 

“No.  I got caught attempting to seduce the daughter over her family’s objections.  That is not acceptable behavior among the Sith,” he explains bitterly.  If there is anything the tribal Sith take seriously, it is sex and marriage.  For the Sith prize power above all.  And power comes from the Force that is usually inherited and from political connections that are the work of generations of scheming and advancement.  “Leena, you don’t kiss a highborn Sith virgin and get away with it.  She was from a proud family that took great offense.  They worried I had ruined their daughter’s prospects and they considered my actions an insult.”

 

“What happened?”  Leena cuts to the chase.

 

“The family got their revenge.   It was an old-fashioned honor killing, Sith-style.  A lightsaber through the neck.”

 

“They killed their own daughter??”  Leena is horrified.

 

“No.  They killed Vindican’s daughter.  My de facto sister.”  He looks away now.  “She was my responsibility to protect.  I failed.”

 

“Oh,” Leena says in a small voice.

 

“My sister had nothing to do with the situation.  She was just an instrument of revenge.   My enemies killed her to punish me.  I had sullied the young girl of their family, so they killed the young girl in mine.”

 

“Oh, Gaius, I’m so sorry—”

 

“This is how the Sith operate, Leena!”  His voice is vehement, brutal honesty. “When you get to my level of achievement in the Force and at war, rarely will a rival strike at me directly.  Instead, they focus their revenge on things and on people they perceive me to value.”  He gives her a pointed look now.  “You would be a perfect target.  Easy for a Force-user to kill and without anyone to avenge your death other than me.” 

 

“You’re trying to scare me, aren’t you?” Leena frowns.

 

Recounting this sad story of his long-ago mistake has made Malgus upset.  He gives vent to his anger now, feeling his eyes flash yellow in the moment.  He also raises his voice, which he never does.  “Do not accuse me of fearmongering!  The risks you would face from my enemies are real!  You are unwise to discount them!”  He feels miserable now as he shouts at her.  “We Sith do not live by conventional morality and we do not have your Republic concepts of justice.   Our world is not organized around right and wrong and good and bad.  It is organized around power.  Power from the Force and power from the hundred or so leading families that matter.  I did not make these rules, but I am trying to succeed within their framework.  And everywhere I turn, there are people trying to thwart me.  Those people might hurt you!”

 

He looks away now, thoroughly frustrated.  The heat of his anger is spent and he is back to bitterness.  It provokes more honesty.  “It’s not that I don’t want you—I’m crazy for you!  I’ve been obsessed with you since that night on the station.  Leena, I had been dreaming about you for weeks before Ziost.  Missing you.  And then when we got word of the invasion, I was desperate to find you but I had to do my duty first.  As soon as I could, I came for you.  But it was too late and the Republic had already picked you up and they were hurting you.” 

 

He sighs and wipes a hand across his sweating forehead.  “This—this moment now is why I wanted a clean break after that first night!” he rages.  He’s as angry with himself as he is with her.  He should never have allowed this situation to develop.  “Because even back at the station I knew you were something special and that if we spent too much time together I would grow attached to you.  All along, I knew we would be great together in and out of bed,” he complains like it’s a bad thing.  “I knew this would happen . . . I knew that I could not resist your temptation . . . I wish things were different but they’re not . . . “ 

 

He's got his composure back now.  Something about this woman provokes him to give into temptations—whether they be sex, compassion, or anger.  This unassuming woman throws him off his game the way no powerful Sith Lord adversary ever could.  And when the mask of indifference slips, the real man shows.  “All I can do now is to try to help you.  Because you are so much more than just a slave.  And because in the eyes of many I might as well be you.”

 

She shoots him a resentful look.  “Your life is nothing like a slave.”

 

“Do you want to know my real background?” he challenges.  “I’m not actually a random Force user like everyone thinks.  They occur now and then in all species, but I’m not one of them.  I inherited the Force.”

 

“Does that matter?”  

 

“Yes.  I was adopted by a zookeeper and raised as his son.  But in reality, I am the illegitimate offspring of some anonymous highborn human Sith lady and her unnamed Dark Lord lover.”

 

“Oh,” she blinks.  And why is he telling Leena this?  Maybe because she understands what is to feel cheated out of a better life by the circumstances of your birth.

 

He sums it up bluntly now:  “I’m a bastard.  Unacknowledged and unwanted.”

 

“Oh.”  She thinks a moment.  “I’m surprised you were ever born.”

 

“I’ve wondered that myself.  I don’t know the circumstances.”

 

“Do you know who your real parents are?”

 

“I have some theories.  But I don’t really know.  I’m not sure it matters anyway.  Knowing the truth wouldn’t change things.  If this became public, it would only give people another reason to look down on me.”  He shoots her an understanding look.  “We are a pair of misfits.  The runaway Republic slave and the bastard Sith son.  Neither of us belong in the life we were born into.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with compassion shining in her eyes. 

 

He shrugs.  He accepted this about his life many years ago.  But still . . . it stings.  “Accident of birth makes one man a prince and another a peasant.  Life isn’t fair.  That’s why I am excluded and shunned by the very class of people I should have every right to belong to,” he complains bitterly.   Then, he looks pointedly at Leena.  “I don’t care that you were a slave.  You are so much more than that.”  Does she believe him?  He thinks she does.  He says it again.  “I don’t care that you were a slave.”

 

“But other people do,” she responds with simple wisdom. “Just like other people would care about your background if they knew.”  Her eyes are still teary and red as she promises, “Gaius, your secret is safe with me.”

 

He nods.  And now, for the life of him, he can’t remember why he thought it was a good idea to get on this topic.  It’s just that with Leena it’s so easy to unburden himself.

 

She gives him a weak, rueful smile now.  “Look at us.  Illicit affairs seem to run in your family,” she makes an attempt at a joke.  And while neither of them is laughing, it does take some of the tension from the room.

 

“I didn’t intend to tell you all that.  But I want you to understand why you need to leave.  Leena, I care for you too much to sacrifice you to my enemies.  Already, I have lost a sister to my ambitions.”

 

“Why does the Emperor permit his Lords to fight among themselves?” she asks.  She’s trying to understand.  “Isn’t that counterproductive?”

 

Yes, it is.  But Malgus strongly suspects that Emperor Vitiate likes it that way.  “The Sith . . . well, the Sith are the Sith,” he gripes.  “We are so caught up in our own infighting and petty one-upmanship that we focus more effort on tearing down each other than we do on defeating our enemies.  The revenge of the Sith ought to be focused on the Jedi and the Republic.  But instead, it’s focused mostly on ourselves.”  Malgus scowls and adds, “A lot of it is focused on me.”  He grumbles under his breath, “Upstart me.”

 

“So . . . “  Leena hesitates briefly and then starts again.  “So . . . fuck them!  Fuck them all!” Leena’s language and sentiment make him blink.  Here she is asserting herself again unexpectedly.  “Let’s be happy,” she declares with a determined look.  “For as long as we can.”

 

It’s so naïve.  “It’s not that simple—”

 

“Yes, it is,” Leena persists.  “Happiness is the best revenge those haters can ever face.”

 

“That’s so trite—”

 

“No, it’s not!” she overrides him again, looking more and more fierce by the moment.  This is the look of the woman who emptied an entire plasma cartridge into a Jedi.  “Gaius, your job is power.  You go get all the power you can to protect yourself and me.  Follow where your ambitions lead and keep going.  If that means marrying Lady Cassis, then that’s fine by me.  Go get all the glory and influence you have ever wanted.  Leave the happiness to me.  That’s my job.  I will make you happy.  Here on your ship we will create our own life and live by our own rules and be happy together for as long as we can.   And whatever happens, happens.  I will accept the risks.”

 

It’s a bold, rebellious speech that finishes in a long moment of silence.  Her rapid-fire words seem to hang in the air. 

 

She looks as shocked as he is.  And he’s not so much shocked by her substance, as by her style.  Here again is a peek into the strength that lies beneath her demure veneer.

 

Her vehemence is spent.  Suddenly, Leena is red faced and self-conscious.  Her eyes find the floor.  “I have overstepped,” she mumbles miserably.  “Forgive me, my lord.”

 

He raises both eyebrows and nods.  “You keep surprising me.”  With this woman, he will never be bored, that’s for sure.   And she’s wearing him down, he knows. 

 

“I am sorry, my lord, for that outburst.”

 

He’s not.  ‘Fuck them all’ are words to live by, as far as he is concerned.  As usual, Leena gets him like no one else does.  And the thrust of her diatribe gets right to the core of what’s missing in his life:  she’s on his side and she has his back.  She is enthusiastically volunteering to play the helpmate role that Lady Cassis disdains.  It’s really too bad he can’t marry Eleena Daru, he thinks.

 

“You are the one who gives the orders around here, my lord.  I will remember that,” she says contritely.  Like she is fearing a reprisal.  And recalling the first time he met her, Malgus understands her posture.  Barrabas would have punched her for that rant.   

 

“Oh, Leena, stop groveling.  I hate that.  I like it when you speak your mind and say what you want.  You should do it more often,” he encourages.   And now, he is loath to countermand her determined spirit.  Suddenly, he is working counter to his own purposes.  But, well, for selfish reasons Malgus wouldn’t mind keeping Leena around, if only for her spectacular pep talks.   

 

After a moment of deliberation, he sighs and gives in.  “So I guess this means you’re not leaving.”  After this heated argument and his revelations about the past, Leena looks more determined than ever to stay.   And since she had the courage to confront him and she now knows the risks, refusing to accept her decision will rob her of agency.  Every moment of self-assertion by this slave woman is a step forward.  It makes him proud of her.  So perhaps his well-intentioned paternalism is the wrong move here.   It will undercut Leena if he overrides her and simply sends her away.

 

For her part, Leena digs in and stubbornly vows, “I will be here when you return.”  

 

Malgus smothers a grin at her moxy.  Because now more than ever he wants her to stay.  But is she really up for this?  “You know how to contact Jose,” he tells her as he walks back to the door to grab for his bag.  “If you change your mind and you want to go to the station, he will come pick you up.  Anytime.  No questions asked.”

 

“Okay.”  She is noncommittal.

 

“You should think about this more when I’m gone.  When you are not making an emotional decision.  You should decide with your head and not with your heart.”  Yet again, Malgus feels the need to be very upfront.  “There’s not enough of me to go around.  I have a wartime command and I will be gone for weeks at a time.  Eventually, I am going to marry Lady Cassis.   I may even take an Apprentice.  That will leave very little time for you.”

 

“I understand.”  Leena is so accepting.  Well, she is accepting . . . until she isn't.  This is a woman who knows her mind but rarely speaks it.  She spoke it once to a Jedi and let her gun do the talking.  Her body speaks it nightly to him in a haze of passion.  And she has been speaking her refusal to leave aloud with quiet stubbornness for the past few days.   In fits and starts, Malgus realizes, Leena is muddling forward into confidence. 

 

Well, she’s going to need plenty of confidence.  Because if they are going to do this, Darth Malgus is not planning to hide anything.  His crew will just have to deal with it.  Hopefully, they will be loyal to their commander and his alien lady.  But who knows?

 

“If you are still here when I return, we will be open and notorious on my ship,” he decides.

 

She looks alarmed.  “What does that mean exactly?”

 

“It means I want you to be waiting for me in your finery when my shuttle arrives.” 

 

And that seems far too bold to Leena.  She is concerned.  “Gaius, we aren’t fooling anyone now as is.  But if I show up to meet your shuttle, it will be completely obvious.”

 

“That’s the point.”  He is undeterred.  Darth Malgus hasn’t cared what anyone thinks for a long, long time.  “You said it yourself--this is my ship.  Here, I can do what I want.   To keep the gossip and the speculation to a minimum, we will just put you out in public and act like it’s no big deal.  The crew can deal with it.  It will be like the dogs and the garden—just another Malgus eccentricity.  The crew will talk for a few days and then move on to something else.”  Well, hopefully.  He looks her in the eye now.  “I am not ashamed of you.”   He will not treat her like a sordid secret for which he fears ridicule.  “But when other Sith Lords show up,” he warns her, “I insist that you hide away for safety.”

 

“Okay.  I guess.”  She looks unconvinced.

 

“I mean it. I expect to return to find you in your fanciest dress as the unofficial queen of my ship,” he commands.  “If you can’t do that, then you should leave.  Think it over,” he instructs.  “I’ll understand if you decide you don’t want this.  You will be taking an awful risk.” 

 

“I understand.”

 

“Do you?” he challenges.  She nods.  “It’s settled then,” he decides.  “I’m off to war.”

 

“Wait!” she forestalls him.  Leena runs to his arms to pull him down for a thorough kiss.  “Come back to me.  I will be here waiting,” she promises when they part.

 

Malgus grunts.  “Never fear.  It’s hard to kill a Sith.”  Then he grins and whispers mischievously under his breath, “Fuck them all, right?”  

 

“Right,” she echoes. 

 

He departs to head for the hangar bay for his shuttle that has been waiting on him for half an hour now.  As he hikes up the ramp, Malgus wonders whether he just lost the battle but won the war with Leena.  Or was it vice versa?  Only time will tell. 


	26. Chapter 26

“Ms. Daru!”  Eleena is on her way to meet the arriving Jose Escriva in the hangar bay when a man’s voice calls for her attention.  She turns around to recognize the lead member of the strike team that had rescued her off Ziost.   This is the guy who had asked all the questions.

 

“Oh, hello,” she smiles. She will be forever grateful to this man and his team.

 

“They told me you were in the garden with the dogs but I missed you,” the man explains sort of apologetically.  “We were never formally introduced.  Name’s Barker.  Lieutenant Commander Cliff Barker.”

 

She nods.  “Hello again.  Nice to see you.”  There are so few familiar faces to her on this ship of thousands.

 

The man nods respectfully.  “Lord Malgus sent orders.  He says you have a new gun and need to practice shooting it for self-defense.”

 

Did he now?   Eleena smiles.  The _Absolute_ ’s resident Dark Lord has been gone three days now and she hasn’t heard from him.  But she’s been thinking of him nonstop.  Apparently, she must be on his mind too. 

 

“Yes, he gave me a new gun.”  Eleena lifts the hem of her dress to give Barker a playful peek at the snub blaster strapped to the inside of her left lower leg.  “I haven’t shot it yet.  I don’t think anyone has shot it yet.”

 

“I can help with that, Ma’am,” the Lieutenant Commander answers.  Together they make plans for Eleena to drop by the strike team’s next training session later that afternoon.  It’s something to look forward to after all these boring days spent amusing herself with the dogs.  Eleena can hardly wait.

 

“Have you ever shot a blaster before?” the team leader asks.  “Before Ziost, I mean,” he corrects himself.

 

“Er . . . a little,” Eleena answers.  It’s not false modesty in her mind.  She’s more experienced with a blaster than most civilians, but that probably means little to an experienced fighting man like this, she figures. 

 

“That’s fine,” he assures her.  “My men will give you some pointers and you can spend some time at the firing range.  We’ll get you comfortable with that new weapon in no time,” he promises.

“Thank you,” Eleena nods.  “I’d like that.”

 

The Lieutenant Commander grins as he refers to their prior adventure, “You never know when you’ll run into a Jedi again.”   The comment makes them both laugh a little.  The team leader seems nice.  Eleena likes him instantly.

 

Then, she is off to the hangar bay to meet Jose.   Lord Malgus’ manservant had sent a message saying he would be in the ship’s vicinity today and did she need anything?  Eleena had asked him to come.  She has some things to discuss that would be best done in person.  And, she’s anxious for some company.   

 

As she makes her way to the hangar bay, Eleena notes all the surreptitious glances.  She still feels very on display.   The corridors here on the uppermost deck of the dreadnought are perpetually crowded and as a female alien wearing a fancy dress she very conspicuous.   Still, Eleena has been making herself take long walks around the ship every day since Gaius left.  She holds her head high, tries to meet people’s eyes, and strives to look purposeful even though she is basically wandering aimlessly and often lost.  Because if this warship is going to be her home, she’s going to have to get comfortable with all the attention.  She belongs here, she tells herself.  Soon, she hopes, the novelty of seeing the blue Twi’lek woman will wear off.   But as she stands waiting in the busy hangar bay watching the supply ships and fighters patrolling the blockade come and go, she feels the weight of many eyes.

 

The scrutiny increases when Jose Escriva arrives to the _Absolute_ in the stylish luxury cruiser yacht that Eleena remembers being parked at the space station.  It’s a big, showy transport for just a pilot and Jose, but apparently this is how Lord Malgus’ civilian emissaries travel.  There is no formal military assembly to receive Jose, just her.  But Eleena can feel every eye in the cavernous hangar bay trained on them.  No doubt everyone is curious why Lord Malgus’ personal head of household is here to meet the alien refugee woman from Ziost. 

 

Self-conscious, fidgeting Eleena smiles sheepishly at Jose as he walks down the ramp.  He looks concerned.  The manservant’s eyes sweep over Eleena and he instantly suggests they talk in private.  Only when they are behind the closed doors of Lord Malgus’ quarters does Jose speak again.

 

“You’re leaving him.”  It’s a statement not a question.  Jose looks let down.  He sighs heavily.  “I knew he would chase you away.”

 

In the awkwardness of the moment, Eleena hesitates. 

 

Jose jumps in to fill the silence.   He’s all business now.  “Are your things packed?   The Master said to make sure you take all of it.  He wants you to have it all for your new life.” 

 

Jose misunderstands.  Eleena starts sputtering, “It’s not what you think—”

 

He holds up a hand to forestall her words.  “The Master said no questions asked.  You don’t owe me an explanation.”

 

“No, I’m staying.  Jose, I’m staying,” she protests. 

 

“You are?” The senior servant looks like perhaps he has misheard.  “You are?”  Jose looks relieved.  “Really?”

 

“Yes,” Eleena says firmly.  “I know he says I should go back to the station for safety, but I’m staying.”

 

“Then why am I here?”  Jose looks confused. 

 

“Well, uh . . . I was hoping you could help me make this place a little more comfortable.”  Her tentative, defensive voice ends on an up note, like a question.  Eleena gestures around at the sparse, drab rooms that have very utilitarian furnishings.  The durasteel floor is hard and cold on bare feet.  The chairs around the small dining table are the same as the office chairs in the small conference room.  The couch is basically an elongated version of the chairs.  None of it is comfortable, especially for a two-meter Sith who wears chunky armor a lot and likes to manspread when he relaxes.  “Do you think there are any extra things at the space station that we can move here?” Eleena asks hopefully.  “He spends so much time here.  It would be nice if it were a little less impersonal.  And more relaxing.”

 

“Yes, of course.  We can definitely do better than this.”  Jose slants some side eye at Eleena now.   He’s still suspicious that something is up.  “So . . . you called me here just to talk to me about redecorating?  That’s all?”

 

“Well . . . er . . . yes.  Did I do the wrong thing?” she asks nervously.  “I did the wrong thing, didn’t I?”

 

“You really aren’t leaving, are you?”  Again, Jose sounds relieved.  He turns back to her from surveying the furnishings and smiles broadly.  “Eleena, we can do whatever you want.  Shall I hire a decorator to work with you?”

 

A decorator?  “Oh, no!  I just want to make it more homey feeling.  Let’s use what we already have.  You know—some stuff from home to make it feel more like home.”

 

Jose nods at this suggestion.  “Yes, we can certainly do that.  Lady Cassis was by the station last week for a tour.  From her reaction, I think she will be making major changes.  Well, basically, she’s planning to throw most everything out.   So how about I pick what’s in the best condition from the station and send it here?”

 

“Good idea.”  Eleena starts rattling off her thoughts on what to take from the space station as Jose takes copious notes. 

 

“Keep going,” Jose tells her as they walk the Master’s rooms together.  And with this encouragement, Eleena starts moving on to other ways she wants to upgrade their drab surroundings.  “Can we get some better towels?” she asks, fingering the military issue linens.  “These ones are scratchy and far too small.”  As the manager of the Sith’s two households, Jose knows what his Master likes.  And now he too is making suggestions.    He and Eleena put their heads together.  After an hour or so, the manservant has a lengthy procurement list.  It’s all intended to make the quarters on the _Absolute_ a smaller version of his private apartment at the space station.

 

“Give me a few days and I can have all of this here to be changed out.  When is the Master coming back?”

 

“I don’t know,” Eleena answers.  “He didn’t say.  He’s at the battlefront.”

 

“Even when he says a date he’ll be back, he’s always late,” Jose laughs knowingly.  “With Lord Malgus, a few days is sometimes weeks.  But then again,” he looks approvingly over at Eleena, “that was before he had someone to come home to.” 

 

This is the first time since the awkward misunderstanding at his arrival that Jose has overtly alluded to her relationship with Darth Malgus.  Eleena can’t help it.  She feels her face flush bright pink.

 

Jose sees this and is horrified.  He hastens to make amends.  “I’m not judging you.  All of us back at the station were hoping this would happen but then you went to Ziost . . . ”

 

“All of you??” Eleena says weakly.  How much had the station staff seen and heard, she wonders.

 

Jose shrugs.  “Yes.  You and the Master have a chemistry together.  Everyone could see that.  When he took an interest in you, we all noticed.”  She bites her lip and he assures her again, “No one is judging you.  The whole staff was relieved to learn that you are alive.   And the story of your rescue confirmed what we all were hoping.  I, for one, am very happy that he hasn’t chased you away.  I can certainly tell that he is trying.  And . . . for good reason.”  Jose does not elaborate but just assumes Eleena knows why. 

 

“He tried to send me away.  I refused,” Eleena reveals softly.

 

“You are braver than I am, if you will defy a Dark Lord.”  The longtime family servant leans forward now to urge her, “Make him happy, Eleena.  The Master needs that.”  Jose, like the rest of Lord Malgus’ personal staff, is devoted and quite protective of the Master.

 

Eleena just nods.  She’s still feeling very uncomfortable.   And now, oddly pressured too.

 

“It’s been six . . . no . . . probably eight years now since the Master had a companion,” Jose reveals.

 

“Are they all dead?” Eleena asks bluntly, fearing the worst.   Lord Malgus’ repeated warnings about the dangers posed by his enemies and the sad story of his dead sister are still very much on her mind. 

 

“Oh, no.  The Master dismissed them all over time.  Well, I think one or two may have left him.  Some lasted a few months.  With others, it was off and on over the course of a couple of years.  None of them lived with the Master.  Those women were . . . er . . . ‘kept’ on Dromund Kaas in the traditional sense.” Jose is trying to phrase it as best he can. 

 

Fascinated, Eleena starts asking questions about her predecessors.  “Who were they?  Where did he meet them?”

 

The manservant thinks back.  “One was a Mandalorian noblewoman.  She was the exception, though.  The rest were Sith ladies.  Widows who were on their own.   Not women from the ruling families, of course.  Those women would have been taken care of by their own clans.  Plus, the Master made a point to stay distant from any highborn Sith lady after . . . er . . . what happened . . .”   Jose slants her a glance.  “You know about that, right?”

 

“He told me.”

 

“That was a bad business,” the senior servant shakes his head.  “On both sides.  It was decades ago now, but the Master can’t ever get past it.  All the best families closed ranks against him after that.  He crossed a line that was unacceptable.”  Loyal Jose makes a face.  “The Master has been a social pariah ever since.  And no amount of glory or war prizes will ever open those doors again.  And without the goodwill of the most powerful families, the Master will never make it onto the Dark Council.  This is as far as his career will probably ever go,” Jose sums up glumly.  “The Master is the best warrior Lord of recent generations.  Everyone knows it, but no one says it.”

 

“So . . . the other women . . . “  Eleena wants to know more about them.   “They were all fully human?  Not humanoid?”

 

“Oh, yes.  They were human.  There were quite a few back in the day,” Jose recalls matter of fact.  “But for many years now, there has been no one.  The Master has been alone a long time.”  And now, Jose continues with his blunt speaking.  “Eleena, we all wish you were the new mistress.  Lady Cassis is planning to shake things up.”

 

Having met the lady, Eleena is not surprised.  “Is everyone worried for their jobs?”

 

“The cook and the housemaids certainly are.”

 

“But you’re okay, right?” 

 

Jose looks grim but he maintains optimism.  “I hope so.  I suspect she’ll be making more changes to the villa since she will be living there full-time.  Lady Cassis is planning to replace and supplement the current staff on Dromund Kaas with her own family retainers.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“That’s how these things are done,” Jose explains. “Lady Cassis wants to be especially certain of the loyalty of her staff.  What will all the Master’s enemies to consider . . .   She’ll be taking no chances.  You should see the security measures she has demanded in the settlement.”

 

And now that they are dishing on the soon-to-be Lady Malgus, Eleena too speaks her mind.  “I met Lady Cassis back at the station.  That woman is awful.”

 

But for Jose, apparently, the jury is still out.  He gives a little shrug.  “She’s a Sith aristocrat.  They are all like that at least on the surface.  But sometimes they surprise you, Eleena.  They are not always what they first appear.”

 

“The Master certainly isn’t,” she agrees, thinking of all the posturing he does in public.  It’s like when he leaves his quarters to step into public, a blank mask descends on his face and his demeanor becomes habitually cold and gruff.  The man behind closed doors is far more personable than anyone onboard the _Absolute_ would ever suspect.

 

And now, Jose has a warning for her.  “You know, the first thing Lady Cassis asked about when she had me alone was you.”  He gives Eleena a very pointed look.  “I was happy to tell her that you had left us for Ziost.  I believe she thinks you are still there.  And that is very good.”

 

“Would she even care about me and the Master?” Eleena asks.  She’s not familiar with the Sith culture of arranged marriages so she doesn’t really understand what they are like in practice.

 

“Probably,” Jose answers.  “The Sith are possessive and controlling.  The women are no different than the men.”  He looks her in the eye.  “I suspect it’s more the principle of the matter.  Lady Cassis might not want to be in Lord Malgus’ bed but that doesn’t mean she wants you there instead.”

 

“Oh.”  Eleena blanches.  Then she reddens. 

 

“I’m sorry for my plain-speaking.” Jose is now as red faced as she is.  “I meant no offense.  It’s just that I know you are from the Republic so you might not realize these things . . . “

 

“Who am I kidding?” Eleena sighs as she sinks down heavily in a nearby chair.  “Everyone knows what’s going on.”  She makes a face.  “The fact that I’m an alien slave makes it worse with her, right?”

 

Jose reluctantly agrees.  “You are not who Lady Cassis would expect for her rival for Lord Malgus’ affections,” he says diplomatically.  “But hold your head high.  You are a Sith Lord’s lady, even if it’s unofficial.  Make him happy.  Make yourself happy as well.”

 

Eleena gives Jose a determined look now.  “Yes, that’s the plan.”

 

Jose approves.  “I’m glad you’re here on the ship.  You are much safer here than you are back on Dromund Kaas.  Now, what do you need?  Or should I say want?  Need is not the standard here.  How can I make things more comfortable for you?” 

 

Eleena thinks a moment before she decides. “Can I get some lip gloss?” she begins.

 

It turns out that Jose has brought some more additions to her growing wardrobe with him on the cruiser.  Finally, Eleena has some casual clothes.  She is delighted to discover that among these new purchases are a few things suitable to wear while practicing her shooting.  That has Eleena very excited.   She can wear some of it later today.

 

But enough about her.  Eleena asks for an update on everyone back at the station.  She learns that Cook’s grown son just got married and that her housemaid roommate has a not-so-secret budding romance with one of the station’s techs.  Everyone misses the dogs that they pretended to hate for years.  It’s quiet and neat now that they are gone, Jose explains.  But it’s weird not having them around.  He promises to send her Cook’s recipe for Lord Malgus’ favorite cookies.  Eleena thinks perhaps she can coax the _Absolute’_ s commissary into a batch now and then.   Jose endorses this plan with conspiratorial glee. 

 

The homey gossip is fun, but it’s about everyone else but Jose.  So Eleena asks gently, “How are you these days?”

 

“Better,” the overworked manservant sighs.  “I’m no longer the Master’s civilian aide-de-camp and we no longer have the station full of bivouacked officers.  I was happy to move on from all of that.  I’ve seen enough spies beheaded at dinner to last a lifetime,” he exchanges glances with her.

 

“But . . . ?”  Eleena can hear the unspoken qualification in his tone.

 

“I’m overseeing the marriage settlement negotiations,” Jose explains. “That’s my big task these days.”

 

“How’s that going?”  Eleena asks a little too casually.  She’s not fooling Jose about her curiosity, she knows.

 

“Slower than the Master had hoped,” Jose discloses with a shrug.  “It progresses in fits and starts.  Getting all those lawyers and accountants on the same page is like herding banthas.  There isn’t much urgency to the situation from the other side right now.  But things will get serious again when the next quarter rolls around and Darth Serevin has bills to pay.”

 

“This is all about credits?”

 

Jose nods.  “Basically.  The Master is buying his way back into social circles that closed to him years ago.  But his war record helps too.  What the Master has accomplished on his own is nothing short of remarkable.  And that he has rebounded so fast from the loss of his old ship is very impressive.”

 

“A lot of that is thanks to your help,” Eleena credits Jose who she remembers working night and day in those first few months after Lord Malgus’ defeat at the hands of the Republic.

 

Jose nods and alludes to the Sith system of patronage.  “What is good for the Master is good for all of us.”  And this is the crux of the tribal-minded Sith.  They pick a team and give all for it.

 

As Eleena walks Jose back to his ship, he keeps gently haranguing her to bring him more requests.  “I can get you whatever you want,” he promises.  But Eleena demurs.  She doesn’t need much, she tells him.   By comparison to her life at Barrabas Logistics, she lives very luxuriously these days.

 

A few hours later, mindful of all the dire warnings from Lord Malgus, Eleena begins her sessions with the Ziost strike team who had rescued her weeks ago.  She’s got her new casual pants and boots on.  The tunic blouse that went with them is a bit too girly looking, so Eleena pilfers a black t-shirt from Lord Malgus’ closet instead.  All in all, it’s a functional, casual look that strikes her as far more appropriate than swooping down to C Deck in one of her queenly gowns.  It has the added benefit of being all black, and that helps Eleena blend in better amid the mostly grey and black uniforms of the Sith military.

 

As luck would have it, Eleena ends up walking behind two of the men of the Ziost strike team as she wanders down to the dreadnought’s lower deck training facilities.  She’s not intending to eavesdrop, but it’s unavoidable in the circumstance.  They are talking loudly and they have no idea that she is behind them.

 

“So . . . do you think Malgus is banging her?” the taller man asks his companion.  Eleena has worked around spacers in freight warehouses for years, so she recognizes the way men talk about women when they are not around to hear.  And if this conversation is any indication, then Gaius is right to make their relationship open and notorious to put all of the speculation to rest. 

 

The shorter man walking on the left considers.  “If she were human, I might bang her.  Have you seen her since she healed up?   I saw her yesterday on A Deck and she cleans up okay.  Never would have guessed that when we pulled her off Ziost.”

 

“She’s too tall for you.”

 

“Lying down she’s not.”  The two men exchange looks and laugh man to man.

 

“Yeah, he’s definitely banging her.  You don’t sneak behind enemy lines to rescue a woman who’s just your former employee.  You and I both know that we just happened upon all those other prisoners.  And when we were at her apartment, Malgus knew way too much about her.”

 

“I don’t know . . .   Maybe she really was our agent and she had valuable intel?  The Republic thought she had intel.  Why else would they interrogate her?”

 

“Nah, if Malgus thought she had intel to spill he would have had an asset already on-world kill her to silence her.  He wouldn’t bother rescuing a compromised agent in an invasion situation.”

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 

“Look, if she were our agent, we wouldn’t need to teach her to shoot,” the taller man points out the obvious.

 

“Why are we supposed to teach her?”

 

“Because Barker said so and we are good soldiers who follow orders.  Look, we’ll show her the safety lock and let her shoot a little.  Maybe go through some basic stances.  It’s one-hour max.”

 

“Ron said she drilled that Jedi woman twice before she hit the ground.  If that’s true, this woman can already shoot.”

 

“Then that will make things easier.  But I think it was a lucky shot.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Hey, don’t look so glum.  How long has it been since you spent an hour with a woman?”

 

“She’s an alien. Trust it to Malgus to be banging an alien.”

 

“Geez, she’s a Twi’lek.  You’re acting like she’s Gungan or something freakish like that.  I mean—it’s like she’s almost human.” 

 

“She’s blue.  Not my thing, man.”

 

“She’s the only woman on the ship who’s a civilian and therefore exempt from the no fraternizing rule.   You do realize that means you can actually flirt with her without the risk of court martial, right?”

 

“Not if Malgus is banging her, I can’t,” his friend retorts. 

 

Luckily, when minutes later Eleena presents herself for instruction, the two men are completely professional and none the wiser that they have been overheard.  They weren’t trying to be offensive and they aren’t bad guys.  “Hello.  I’m supposed to meet Lieutenant Commander Barker.  Am I in the right place?” she asks. 

 

Where is the team leader?  She doesn’t see him.  Eleena looks around at the training facility and shooting range that looks much larger and more elaborate than what she remembers from the space station.  There are uniformed men everywhere practicing their warcraft.  Once again, Eleena is very aware that she does not belong. 

 

The taller one politely answers.  “Yes, ma’am.  You’re in the right spot.  Barker will be along shortly.  He’s always late.”  The two men now introduce themselves.  She only vaguely remembers their faces from Ziost.  A lot of that day is a blur in retrospect.  “It’s good to see you recovered, ma’am,” she hears. 

 

“What have you got there?” the shorter man is curious about the blaster case she is carrying.  Eleena opens it to reveal the gun Lord Malgus gave her to wear secreted under her dress. 

 

“That looks like a Glock,” the taller man observes with a knowledgeable eye.

 

“That is a Glock.  But it’s smaller than the usual one.”

 

“Is it?”  Eleena wouldn’t know.  “I am supposed to keep it strapped to my leg under my dress.”

 

“That’s hot,” the shorter man says under his breath and it earns him a reproving glare from his friend.  Eleena pretends not to notice.  These two are more bumbling than threatening, she decides.  But where is that Lieutenant Commander?

 

The taller man speaks up as he gestures towards the gun.  “Look, we know you shot that Jedi and all.  But are you sure you can handle this?  It may look small, but it’s lethal.”

 

“I’ve never shot it before,” Eleena admits. 

 

The men take that to mean that Eleena is inexperienced with guns aside from pumping rounds into the Jedi at close range.  “Okay,” the taller man takes the lead and lifts the weapon from its case to demonstrate for Eleena.  “This is the safety lock.  When the safety is on, the gun won’t fire.  When it’s off, it’s a live firearm.  Got it?  Good.  This is set to stun.  We always practice set to stun.  Now, are you lefthanded or righthanded?”  The man hands Eleena the gun and starts showing her a basic two-handed pistol grip.   When he is satisfied, he explains how to aim.  He wants her to fire.  “Okay, good.  Take a few shots at that target over there.  Let’s see how you do.  Take all the time you need to aim.”

 

It feels good to have a gun in her hand again.  Eleena smiles as she drills the target dead center on all eight rapid-fire shots.  “Oh,” is all her two instructors say as they exchange looks.  They are impressed.

 

But Eleena frowns.  “I think this gun kicks a little to the left.  There’s a lot of movement in this one compared to my old one.”

 

“It’s because this weapon is so small,” she is told.  “Smaller pistols have greater recoil.  You have to adjust to that for rapid fire.  Try again.”

 

She does.  And again, Eleena drills the target dead center every time.

 

“Well done.  Let’s try two targets.  It will be hard at first, so don’t be disappointed if you miss a few.  If you miss, keep going on to the other side.  Just alternate between the left and the right.”

 

She does.  Yet again, Eleena drills the targets dead center.  This time, she doesn’t bother with the stabilizing two-handed grip.  She just raises the weapon in her right hand, aims, and fires.

 

“Okay, what’s next?” she asks her two suddenly quiet instructors. 

 

“Er . . . here’s the boss,” the tall guy mumbles as Lieutenant Commander Barker walks up late as predicted.  “Do those shots again, Ms. Daru, so he can watch.”

 

She obliges.  When the three men blink at her a moment, Eleena suggests, “Back at the station, we used droids.  Do you have any of those I can try?”

 

“Battle droids?  You’re a civilian but you’ve trained with battle droids?” the taller man asks.

 

The team leader nods slowly.  “Yes, well I guess that’s the next step.  To simulate live combat action.  Let’s see what you can do with this new gun, Ms. Daru,” he tells her as he walks off to retrieve a droid.  It looks just like the ones she and Lord Malgus used on his space station.

 

Her instructors begin explaining how the droid works.  It is set to a basic beginner drill that Eleena has already mastered.  She listens patiently to all their advice and then asks, “Just one droid?”

 

The men take the hint.  “Er . . . two.  Let’s use two.”

 

Two, it is.  The beginner level drill with slow timed response fire is easy for Eleena.  As she concentrates to take the shots, she observes offhand, “It feels weird to do this without a lightsaber buzzing around.”

 

The men exchange looks again.

 

“Have you got another gun I can use?” Eleena asks.  “I really need to work on my left hand.  I’m weak on that side.”  She is handed another gun and now she herself starts adjusting the droids to a more advanced drill.  This time, Eleena doesn’t make all of her shots.  She misses three on the left side.  But she holds her own.  So, she tries it again.  And now, she is getting the feel of the new guns she is holding.  This time, she makes all of her shots.  “That’s better,” she commends herself.

 

Eleena turns around to grin at her instructors and discovers that Captain Ledbetter is here observing.  And that’s unexpected.  “Hello, Ms. Daru.  Still the same crackshot you were at the station, I see,” he comments.  And that’s a meaningful endorsement in front of this crowd.   The Captain looks amused as he observes, “Careful men.   She might make you look bad.”   Then the _Absolute_ ’s leader is off to the next thing.  “Carry on,” he orders as he departs. 

 

“What was that about?” the short man of the trio asks to his team leader in the Captain’s wake.  And Eleena is curious, too.

 

“He relayed Lord Malgus’ orders,” the Lieutenant Commander explains.  “I guess he wanted to be sure I followed through.”

 

Her trio of instructors are now past their initial surprise at her skill.  Seeing that they have an apt student who really wants to learn has them enthusiastic to teach.  They promptly make plans for shooting drills with Eleena several times a week.  Eleena thinks they are done, but apparently not.  The team leader wants to show her some basics of hand to hand combat.  There are training droids for this skill too, only they project holographic opponents.  They lunge and swipe at you, but there is no actual impact from a hit.  Eleena soon finds herself standing on a mat, bobbing, and weaving away from a virtual opponent.  After the two-minute assessment drill, Eleena is panting but proud that the droid hasn’t landed a punch.

 

“You’re good at avoiding hits,” the team leader approves.

 

His tall colleague nods.  “Yeah.  This isn’t the first time someone has taken a swing at you.  Am I right?”

 

“I’ve had some practice,” Eleena admits with deliberate vagueness, looking away.

 

The men must sense her discomfort because they don’t pursue the point.  They probably think she’s referring to the interrogator on Ziost.  So, they move on.  “How are you at landing a hit?” the Lieutenant Commander asks.

 

“I’ve never really hit anyone,” Eleena admits softly.  Slaves don’t get to fight back.  Her skills are only at defense, not offense.

  

“Well, now is your chance.”  She is handed a pair of boxing gloves to protect her hands.  And now, the virtual attacker droid is replaced with a padded dummy of a human man.  “Pretend this is someone you really don’t like.”

 

“Yeah, pretend this is one of those Republic interrogators on Ziost who beat you up,” the short guy suggests.

 

“Where do I hit him?” Eleena asks.  She’s not sure how to do this.

 

“Give him a right punch to the face and then a kick.”  The team leader demonstrates.  “You’re tall and you’ve got some mass on you.  So put your weight behind it, Ms. Daru.  Let him have it.”

 

“Okay.  And please, call me Eleena.”  Here goes nothing, she thinks as she screws up her face and remembers her ugly time on Ziost.  Thinking of how much she hates the Republic, Eleena throws the first real punch of her life.

 

“That will work.  Now, give him a kick.”

 

Eleena does.  But she doesn’t kick the dummy in the chest like her instructors had.  She kicks him hard in the groin.  The heavy dummy keels over backwards to clatter to the floor as her instructors wince.

 

“Er . . . right.  Good.  That got him.” 

 

The planned one hour of introductory basics turns into two hours.  As they are wrapping up, the team leader commends Eleena.  “You’re a real fast learner.  Hey, come back tomorrow, will you?   The rest of the guys will be here then.  This is a good refresher for us to revisit the basics ourselves.”

 

“Yeah, this is fun for us,” his colleague seconds his opinion. 

 

It’s fun for Eleena too.  She immediately agrees.  And that is how she comes to spend most every morning learning from these men and the rest of the _Absolute_ ’s best team of ground fighters.  It’s not long before Eleena is running combat drills and learning sniper techniques.  It’s very hard work, and it’s frustrating at times.  She can’t compete with the physical strength, speed, and stamina of these veteran fighting men, but she does her best.  Her instructors are patient and encouraging for the most part.  They clearly enjoy the novelty of teaching Eleena.  And, when it comes to the shooting drills, she could teach a few of them a thing or two. 

 

“It’s too bad you can’t come with us on our next mission,” Lieutenant Commander Barker tells her offhand one day as he stands at her shoulder observing her target practice.  “You’re very good with a gun.”  That’s a sentiment she hears more than once.  A few days later when Eleena is finishing up a training drill with four other men against the droids, she is praised again: “You could be a mercenary.  For real.  I’d fight at your side, Eleena.”

 

“Maybe I should enlist?” Eleena jokes in response.  That’s not an option, of course.  The Sith army does not recruit alien women into its military. 

 

“If it were up to me, I’d make an exception for you,” the team leader smiles magnanimously upon her.  And then he invites Eleena to sit in on the briefing for the team’s upcoming mission.   The operation is to plant bombs to remotely detonate a key Republic supply depot on Ziost.  The team is on standby for the mission currently.  It keeps being pushed back as the Sith army on Ziost fails to make the progress necessary to provide the proper air and ground support for the raid.  So as the men wait for the larger war objectives to be attained, they hang out on the _Absolute_ training with Eleena to pass the time.  A lot of being a soldier is waiting around for orders, she learns.  In the meantime, you train and train and train.

 

Training with the strike team earns Eleena some friends on the ship.  But more importantly, it earns her respect.  Before long, she is much more comfortable marching the _Absolute_ ’s hallways, especially when she’s going to and from practice with a pair of blasters holstered on her swinging hips.  And more and more, instead of covert looks in the hallway, she gets nods and even some smiles.  Slowly, Eleena is starting to belong.

 

She is certain that everyone is still speculating about who she is and why she is here.  People are curious that way.  How will the crew react when Lord Malgus returns and she is there to greet him?  Only time will tell.  But little by little, Eleena is coming around to the idea of being open and notorious.  At first, the very thought had filled her with dread.  But now, part of her is excited to see how it will turn out.  And . . . she can’t wait to be back in Lord Malgus’ arms.


	27. Chapter 27

When Darth Malgus is recalled to the battlefront, the situation is dire and worsening by the minute.   Suddenly, the Sith presence on the surface has been surrounded and cut off from its lifeline of supplies.  It is a bold scorched earth offensive that is very atypical of the Republic.  The maneuver is impressive in its speed and cunning.  The Imperial forces are caught flat footed.  As a result, the Empire nearly loses Ziost a second time.

 

That’s why when his shuttle arrives at the flagship _Oppressor_ , Malgus is met by a visibly stressed Darth Angral.  His commander briefs him on the way to a silent conference room packed full of stone faced Dark Lords.  Glancing around, Malgus sees that old Darth Azamin from the Council is in attendance.  That is a very bad sign. 

 

It quickly becomes clear it is his job to plot a strategy to salvage the situation.  So, biting his tongue to keep from saying ‘I told you so,’ Malgus takes charge.  And that’s how he ends up personally commanding all Sith ground forces in the counteroffensive that he himself had voted against.  Only heavy losses in the air and a lot of messy ground fighting saves the day.  When it is over, the Sith infantry casualties are considerable and the civilian death toll is particularly high.  As Malgus has feared all along, victory in Ziost will likely be pyrrhic. 

 

From start to finish, it is a grueling three-week campaign to reestablish a Sith foothold on the surface.  But in the end, Malgus saves the day.  In the process, he also sleuths out the root cause of the near-defeat: poor leadership.  

 

Afterwards, Malgus complains long and loud to Darth Angral about the necessity of having more experienced military commanders on the surface.  Enough with all these green young lordlings who have volunteered.  Malgus would prefer a good infantry battalion commander at his side over a cocky Sith Apprentice any day.   Those young men are all flash and not enough thought.  And far too many of them have the arrogance of their class, thinking that they are invincible because they have the Force.  Plus, they fight as individuals and not as part of a larger team.   Too often, they leave their troops to fend for themselves.  That leads to confusion that the enemy is quick to exploit.

 

We need Sith Lords on the ground who are focused on achieving our strategic objectives.  Not abandoning their troops to race after every Jedi they see.  All that zeal to duel is used against us very effectively, Malgus gripes.  The Jedi lure away our Lords and leave the common soldiers without leadership.  And not coincidentally, that’s when the Republic troopers attack.  Don’t these Apprentices understand a simple diversion?   Malgus is full of contempt for a large number of his peers.  These men might have power in the Force but they have little basic military knowledge, he accuses. 

 

Then teach them, Angral calmly responds.  I called you back to the front because you are one of the most experienced warriors here.  Pass on what you have learned.   Don’t just complain, make things better.

 

He tries.  But several Dark Lords take issue with Malgus personally instructing their pupils.  And, well, most of the kids at issue seem far more interested in aping his favorite combat moves than in learning military strategy.  That ticks him off.  Ziost is serious business, not a place to showcase Force tricks.  The enemy has captured a key Imperial world.  There is no time to be learning on the job. 

 

Unfortunately, it’s not just the youngest of the Sith Lords who are the problem.  There are plenty of more seasoned Dark Lords who also cannot resist the opportunity for a duel.  The young ones see this and, of course, emulate it.  By comparison, Malgus seems like a scolding, overly controlling mother.  And that makes him far too easy to ignore.

 

Annoyed Darth Malgus warns one young lordling on his left flank about it more than once.  “Keep focused on the objective,” he berates the man in advance before his most recent battle.  “The Jedi use their power mostly for defense.  They seldom attack.   Ignore them and do not get drawn away from the field for a duel.  Stay on target.”  

 

But once again, the kid leaps at the chance to chase down some Jedi.  This time it’s a Rodian Padawan.  No doubt the Apprentice perceives the young and scrawny devotee of the Light Side to be an easy kill.  And he might have been until that Jedi Padawan led his gullible Sith counterpart straight to a Jedi Master lying in wait.  Ultimately, Malgus has to intervene to kill both Jedi and to save the hapless Apprentice.  In the end, their strategic objective is achieved, no thanks to the folly of that idiot young Sith.  

 

But afterwards, when that same junior Sith mouths off to Malgus and calls him soft for instructing him to ignore the Jedi, Malgus reaches the end of his patience.   In maturity, he is a man with a long fuse but he still has the explosive temper of his youth.  He stares down the offending youngster as he coldly announces, “I am Darth Malgus the New and I killed my Master for failure in battle when I was younger than you are now.  Darth Vindican was a far better man than you.  So tell me, why should I endure your repeated incompetence?”

 

The offending Apprentice digests these words.  Then he lights his sword and charges.  Frustrated by both this cocky kid and the futility of the overall situation on Ziost, Malgus responds by lighting his own saber.  In one swoop, he takes the aggressive young man’s head in front of far too many witnesses. “Young fool!”  Malgus seethes.  He is thoroughly upset that it has come to this. “Only now, at the end, do you understand!”

 

Lord Angral is not pleased.  

 

The Sith naval commander dresses him down before all on the bridge.  Aren’t you the one always lecturing us to fight the enemy and not each other?  Could you not have disarmed him rather than killed him, Lord Angral complains.   And do you know who his uncle is?  Do you know who his father’s Master was?  You just earned yourself some more enemies, Malgus!   Angral is livid.  I pity whatever man ends up your Apprentice someday.  How can you be such a brilliant strategist and yet be so foolhardy in your own affairs, his superior hisses.  You are your own worst enemy, Angral accuses yet again. 

 

And so, chastised Darth Malgus, the reluctant hero of Ziost, is relieved of his surface command.  He has been rusticating on the _Oppressor_ ever since.  Cooling his heels for the last five days as others do the fighting.  He’s being kept around mostly for show on the off chance that he can consult here and there.   Now that the imminent danger of defeat has lifted, Angral can safely reassign his leadership role elsewhere.

 

And that’s fine by him.  Malgus was never in favor of this strategy in the first place.  But he’s bored.  And that’s hard for an impatient man like himself.  So, he plots.   But not for the war effort, for himself.   And that’s how Malgus finds himself standing in the _Oppressor_ ’s hangar bay awaiting the arrival of Darth Serevin.  

 

The newly arrived Dark Lord casts a baleful eye around at the controlled chaos of a warship in an active combat zone.  Proud Serevin appears a bit miffed by his reception.  "One would think you are not happy to see me," the Sith aristocrat drawls.

 

Being the ambassador and administrator that he is, Darth Serevin is no doubt used to a lot of pomp and circumstance.  But there's a war going on and the hangar bay of the Sith flagship is full of supply ships and light fighters coming and going to patrol the blockade.  And besides, with all the pallets of ordinance and coaxium lying about, there is not the space to devote to some ceremonial assembly to welcome this non-military Sith Lord aboard.  Really, Malgus sniffs, if fearsome old Darth Azamin on the Dark Council can come and go without so much as an honor guard, then this second-rate diplomat can march out of his shuttle without attendants.

 

So when Darth Serevin looks to him with raised eyebrows, Malgus responds pointedly, "This isn’t a councilor ship on a diplomatic mission.  This is a warship.  We usually dispense with the pleasantries." 

 

His father-in-law-to-be flashes a tight sneer.  "No one would ever accuse you of being pleasant, Lord Malgus."

 

And that exchange pretty much sums up how the marriage negotiations have gone so far.  From that first confrontation on Dromund Kaas six months ago until now, things have been curt and combative.  That attitude has been mirrored down the line to their respective lawyer and accountant underlings who bicker and meet needlessly, making zero progress while they rack up large bills.  So, Malgus has decided to bypass the usual route and speak with Lord Serevin directly again.  He requests the ambassador drop by the _Oppressor_ on his way back from Voss.  Would Darth Serevin come to the heart of a war zone to discuss his daughter's marriage?  To his surprise, Lord Serevin accepts.  And that betrays a lot about how committed the man is to this marriage, Malgus judges.  

 

But still . . . the requisite posturing must be done.  It's getting tiresome.  So, as the two men fall into step with one another, Malgus gripes, "When is this going to be done?”

 

“These things take time.  They are not to be entered into lightly,” the elder Sith chides him in a condescending tone that grates.

 

But Malgus thinks he has been plenty patient enough.  They are closing the gap on the marriage settlement payment, but all sorts of other issues keep popping up.  Lady Cassis wants a monthly personal allowance separate from the household expenses.  She wants a new speeder for the villa and her own starship for trips off world.  Whatever, Malgus tells Jose.   Give her what she wants.  He can afford to be magnanimous.  If his wife wants to impress her girlfriends with a lot of fancy stuff, he doesn’t care.

 

But those generous gestures are not buying him any goodwill in the negotiations.  If anything, accepting her demands just leads to more demands.   It seems like a never-ending list.  None of the individual items are that objectionable, but on the whole the magnitude is considerable.  It’s like death by a thousand paper cuts, Malgus thinks. 

 

As the details of the marriage agreement have taken shape, it is clear that Lady Cassis will be making very few concessions as she becomes his wife. She plans to remain on Dromund Kaas to raise her twin sons and continue her existing life.  Malgus is fine with that.  He’ll be gone to war most of the time anyway.  His wife will be happiest ensconced in her usual life doing her usual routine.   But, on the whole, their married life is beginning to look extremely arm’s length.   From what he can tell, his wife has no intention of ever being voluntarily in his presence.  She’ll be doing the bare minimum that is socially acceptable.  She even has a contractual stipulation for separate bedrooms in each of his residences. 

 

That’s not the kind of marriage he had intended, but it appears to be the best that he can get.  Maybe in time, he and the disdainful Lady Cassis will strike up a rapport.  But they will have to be in the same room together more than once or twice a quarter for that to happen, he grouses.  All in all, the draft marriage agreement is not the most promising start to a relationship. 

 

It’s hard not to contrast the reluctant Lady Cassis with Leena who had tearfully begged to stay behind on his ship.  It rankles that Malgus is paying for the privilege of calling Serevin’s proud daughter his wife while meek Leena asks for nothing but time with him.  And given that juxtaposition, Malgus refuses to feel in a hurry to give up Eleena Daru.   What his wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her, he decides.  And anyway, he doubts very much that the aloof Lady Cassis would be hurt in any event.  She’d have to care in order to be hurt, he assesses. 

 

He and Darth Serevin now haggle in private over the remaining major points.  Once again, Malgus strives to be magnanimous over what he views as trivial stipulations.  As far as he is concerned, his wife can have whatever she wants in terms of personal possessions.  And he is happy to cede to the future Lady Malgus complete control over all household matters.  Malgus is also fully prepared to support and one day foster his step-sons.  So, what’s the hold up?  If they could just reach a deal on the overall settlement amount, they will be done and the marriage proposal can be submitted to the Emperor for approval.   Assuming no official objection, they will get a date in the ritual chamber of the Temple on Dromund Kaas.  Then, the actual wedding preparations can be made.

 

Today, he and Serevin do not settle on an amount, but they make considerable progress.  Malgus considers the meeting a success as the two men walk back to the hangar bay.  They are almost to his shuttle when Serevin raises a new issue.  "There is another matter," he says so casually that it is clearly premeditated.

 

Malgus growls, "I thought we had agreed that your last list was your final list of demands."

 

"There is another matter," Serevin persists.

 

"Let the lawyers and the accountants handle it," Malgus says dismissively.  “Have your steward contact Jose.”

 

But Serevin disagrees.  "This is a matter best managed between us.  It does not need to be in the settlement.”

 

“What is it then?” Malgus complains.

 

The answer gets his attention fast.  “It concerns your former accountant.  Your Twi’lek accountant."

 

Leena.  This is about Leena.  Lord Serevin is watching him closely to gauge his reaction.  Malgus studiously maintains both his silence and his poker face. 

 

"Adraas says you went back to Ziost for that alien."

 

Silence.

 

"Well, is that true?" Lord Serevin demands.

 

Malgus waves this concern away.  "Adraas is making trouble as usual."

 

"Is it true?"

 

"Get to the point," Malgus snaps.  He's not about to be called to account for his private life before a marriage settlement is at least agreed in principle.  And until they close the bid and ask on the cash settlement portion, none of the ancillary stuff matters.

 

"My family does not want scandal."  Proud Serevin says this with a smug priggishness that ill-suits his worldly persona.

 

"Spit it out," Malgus gripes.  Because does this man ever say what he wants the first time?  This is so typical of the Sith diplomatic corps.  It's a lot of preamble that takes forever to cut through.  It's the furthest thing from the blunt plain speaking of Darth Malgus the New.  “Well?” Malgus prompts testily.

 

"Keep your alien lover.  But be more discreet and make sure her path does not cross with my daughter again."

 

Ah . . .   So that meeting between Leena and Lady Cassis months back went about as badly as he suspects.  And now, apparently, Darth Serevin thinks he can use it as leverage in these negotiations.  How long has he been holding this issue in reserve?  Well, Malgus refuses to be played.  He immediately pushes back.  "Lady Cassis is not overly desirous of my personal attention."

 

Serevin scowls but does not deny it.

 

Malgus grunts.  "She should be grateful that my interest lies elsewhere for now."

 

"She is offended at the thought that there might be any comparison between herself and the alien woman," Lord Serevin points out.

 

"Who is comparing them?" Malgus asks rhetorically.  "Tell Lady Cassis that she has no reason for concern.  There is no comparison between them."

 

The sarcasm is ineffective, for his arrogant father-in-law completely mistakes his meaning.  Because, of course, Lord Serevin cannot fathom the idea that Eleena Daru might be more attractive than his daughter.  His sense of paternal loyalty must be appeased because he now backs off some now.  "Malgus, I found my daughter’s reaction a bit strong as well.  But I will not have her feelings hurt.   Keep this alien if you must, but keep her out of sight." 

 

"Adraas is just making trouble.  There is no need for concern.  Assure Lady Cassis of that."

 

"And what of the alien woman?"

 

Malgus starts bargaining.  "I will keep her off Dromund Kaas and away from the station.  She will remain on my ship for now."  Making an effort to belittle the situation, he now compares Leena to the hounds.  "Tell Lady Cassis that the matter will be dealt with like the dogs."  Malgus himself winces inwardly at how badly that sounds.  But he is playing to his audience.

 

"Keeping her on your ship is still a bit public, don't you think?" Serevin counters.

 

Malgus stops walking and turns to face his father-in-law head on.  "Your daughter and I will be living separate lives as she has insisted.  Only when your daughter regularly volunteers to climb into my bed will she have veto power over who belongs there."

 

"Malgus--"  The pureblood diplomat’s face has gone from red to purple.  This sort of crass talk has him flummoxed. 

 

So Malgus piles on.  He will be every bit the uncouth, ungallant upstart everyone believes him to be.  "Only when your daughter agrees to bear my sons will she earn the right to dictate whether I can keep a slave woman for sex." 

 

"Malgus—"  Lord Serevin looks truly offended now.

 

But that hot temper which looks ready to boil over meets the cold, calculating resolve of Darth Malgus.  "This marriage is merely a strategic alliance, as you have made clear from the beginning.  It is not personal.  There are no feelings to be concerned about.  Not for me or for Lady Cassis.  Either you and your daughter accept that, or you need to alter the settlement terms to reflect a more traditional arrangement.  The choice is yours."    Malgus shrugs indifferently.  “I am fully prepared to get rid of my Twi’lek if Lady Cassis agrees to be her replacement.  But a man has needs, Serevin.”

 

This speech is both a negotiating tactic and a means to protect Leena.  For if Darth Serevin perceives Leena's value to him personally, then others will too.  It's troublesome that Adraas has already figured it out.  But perhaps that was unavoidable after the unfortunate spotting of Leena here on the _Oppressor_ after Ziost.

 

"My daughter will not take this news well," the elder Dark Lord postures.

 

"Too bad.  She can’t have it both ways,” Malgus growls.  “Now, I grow tired of these demands.  This is taking too long."

  

"You’ll never get a better offer than this," Serevin retorts.

 

"Neither will you," Malgus shoots back.  And that’s why this marriage makes logical sense for both of them.

 

The diplomat now warns, "Careful, Malgus.  My daughter is particularly concerned about this.  You could lose our alliance over this."

 

"Over some random slave woman?  I very much doubt that," Malgus sniffs.  "You forget I know how large your debts are."

 

Lord Serevin eyes him with patrician disdain.  It’s very like Darth Angral on the bridge days ago.  Then, his maybe father-in-law stomps up his shuttle ramp in a huff and takes off. 

 

That could have gone better, Malgus knows.  But nothing about these marriage negotiations has been easy.  When all is said and done, he hopes this alliance is worth the trouble.   Because there are times when Malgus wonders what exactly he is getting out of it.

 

The testy conversation makes him miss Leena even more.   What is she doing now?   He knows Jose went by to check on her weeks ago.  Thankfully, she refused to leave.   And he knows Leena is practicing her shooting.  But is she happy?   Is she lonely?   Does she miss him as much as he misses her?

 

Malgus learned long ago to compartmentalize his life to keep his focus.  But Leena keeps infringing on his thoughts anyway.   Something about that woman upsets his routine and changes his expectations.   And rather than fight it, Malgus has decided to embrace her temptation.  He wants more of Leena in his life, and not less.  Lady Cassis will have to deal with it.

 

The truth is that he wants it all.  The accomplished, socially and politically connected Sith wife he keeps at arm’s length and the beautiful, sweet Leena he hoards away in a love nest on his ship.  Can he have both women?   Well, why not?  Leena seems to be okay with it.  And his wife-to-be doesn’t have the standing to complain.

 

As he watches Serevin’s shuttle lift off, Malgus decides he’s done hanging out cooling his heels here doing nothing.  He’s had enough of his peers muttering about him and shooting him dirty looks.  He heads for the bridge to find Angral.  He informs his superior of his imminent departure.  He’s heading to the _Absolute_ to work on the Coruscant invasion strategy.  That’s the stated reason.  But mostly he’s heading for his home-away-from-home where there are people who actually like and respect him.  And where there is a woman waiting to welcome him with open arms.


	28. Chapter 28

She can do this.  

 

Eleena tells herself this mantra as she painstakingly draws on the pale pink lip gloss Jose sent her.  Next, she dusts on just the faintest hint of pink powder blush on the apples of her cheeks just like she watched on the holonet makeup tutorial.  Her face is her best feature.  She’s long been the girl who ‘has such a pretty face,’ which is really just a backhanded way of saying that the rest of her doesn’t measure up.

 

Nervous Eleena steps back now to survey the entire look in the mirror.  She’s wearing her best dress that she has saved for this occasion.  It’s a navy blue velvet gown with subtle silver trim.  The dress has a surplice style that flatters her curves and kicks at her feet.  The fabric is supple but the styling and color are severe.  Eleena carefully wound a matching ribbon around the ends of her lekku and she has her headband on. 

 

This is the most expensive and regal she has ever looked.  Popular culture might dress the women of her species in scanty midriff baring dancing girl outfits, but Jose plays against type.  He consistently sends her dresses that are fit for a queen.  The woman staring back at her in the mirror shows comparatively little skin.  Just her face and hands and the wide v-neck of her dress.   There is nothing come hither about her.  If anything, the stately ensemble might intimidate with its formality and obvious expense.

 

But is it good enough?  When it comes to appearance, Eleena has never been good enough.  Too tall, too big, too blue, and lately no longer in her ingenue years.  There’s a narrow set of characteristics that combine to make a woman conventionally attractive and only a short window of time to achieve them.  Men get judged for what they do, but women seem to get judged in large part based on how they look.  Especially women of her species.  It is very limiting, especially if you are a woman whose appearance is not her strong suit.   Eleena knows that her strengths are her character, her knack for numbers, and her eagle eye aim.  Too bad those qualities do not show on the outside. 

 

But male or female, appearances matter.  People make snap judgments and instant assumptions based on their perceptions. They project their own biases, sympathies, and experiences, both good and bad.   And so, today as she meets Lord Malgus’ shuttle for his long-awaited homecoming, many, many people will be assessing her.  Eleena knows that she has one chance to get this right.

 

But she can do this.   “I can do this.”   Eleena even says it out loud. 

 

When a Sith Lord naval commander returns after an absence, it is typical for his senior commanders and an honor guard of troopers to greet him as a sign of respect.  But not this time.  Today, the _Absolute_ ’s resident Sith Lord is returning the hero of Ziost who snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.  He left in a hurry recalled to the battlefront to assume command of a near lost cause.  Lord Malgus turned things around and then handed them off.  And now, he returns to his ship to receive the adulation of his proud crew. 

 

There will be a welcoming ceremony in the hangar bay commensurate with the occasion.  Cliff Barker, the leader of the strike team she trains with, had relayed all the details of the Captain’s orders.  The strike team, along with hundreds of other fighting men—not just officers but also the regular boots on the ground—will assemble to herald their Sith Lord’s return.  Captain Ledbetter himself confirmed this when earlier he found Eleena in the arboretum with the dogs.  Lord Malgus has specifically requested your presence for the ceremony, Ledbetter informed her.  She has been expecting this command performance.  I will attend, Eleena confirmed. 

 

That was two hours ago.  Eleena can’t decide if she is more nervous or excited.  Finally, Gaius has come back to her.  How she has missed him during the month that he has been gone.  And now, they are about to reveal to the ship at large what the senior officers already know:  that the blue Twi’lek woman on board is more than just a random prisoner rescued from Ziost. 

 

Is she making a big mistake?   The fate of Darth Vindican’s daughter is sobering.  But Eleena thinks that if she stays on Lord Malgus' ship surrounded by his loyal men, she will be reasonably safe.  The real danger seems to be the Republic, but the strike team members all think that the _Absolute_ is too far away from Ziost to see any real action.  So as long as Eleena keeps away from other Sith Lords, she thinks she can handle herself.   She’s got a blaster strapped to her left ankle and the skills to use it.  Plus, Gaius is worth the risk.  Darth Malgus might risk his life for power, but Eleena Daru will risk her life for love.   It’s a different sort of courage, but it is courage all the same.

 

She can do this.  Eleena takes a deep breath.  This day has finally come.  She’s really about to do this. 

 

She has watched Gaius put on his armor and his cape and become a different man when he walks out the door.  Well, not a different man so much as a different version of himself.  Staring now at her reflection in the mirror, Eleena decides that this tall, regal woman is a different version of her.  If Lord Malgus can play a public role, so can she.  Eleena gives her skirt one last tug and takes a deep breath.  “You can do this,” she tells the queenly woman looking back at her.  Then she beckons to Rags and Simmy lounging on the floor and heads for the door.  If she delays any more, she will be late. 

 

Everyone is already in the hangar bay when Eleena walks up.  Captain Ledbetter and his senior officers await their Dark Lord’s arrival right up front.  Behind them standing in neat rows are a collection of junior officers, troopers, and blockade pilots.  Together, they are a cross section of the Sith war machine, just a small part of a larger military force that plots to rule the galaxy.  Except one thing sets these men apart.  No one here was conscripted to serve Lord Malgus.   They all defected from other Dark Lords to follow him of their own accord.   This is an all-volunteer fighting force.

 

Where does she belong in this formal reception, Eleena wonders.  As she hangs on the perimeter at a distance debating what to do, everyone snaps to attention as a shuttle escorted by four fighters crosses the airlock.   The heavily armored craft lands forthwith, and the ramp descends.  Lord Malgus’ aides-de-camp disembark first to salute the Captain and fall in line behind him.  Then, the Sith Lord himself marches out.  

 

And, oh, how relieved Eleena is to see Gaius.  He’s in full armor as he returns from war, his cape trailing in his wake.  He moves with his characteristic slow, heavy stride and a slight swagger in his shoulders.   The respirator is off, she notes with some relief.  Beneath the veil of his dark hood, Lord Malgus wears the same somewhat bored expression he always uses in public.  She watches as he surveys the room.  Nothing is hurried.  All is deliberate.  And that’s very him.  Everything about gruff Darth Malgus projects power.  This is a man long accustomed to command.

 

Captain Ledbetter steps forward to formally receive the ship’s ultimate commanding officer.  He salutes and then takes a knee in the traditional obeisance to a Dark Lord of the Force.  The two men speak.  The greeting must be ceremonial and perfunctory because Lord Malgus simply nods and leaves the man on his knee.  Then, his head turns to look right at her.  The Sith Lord lets loose that shrieking whistle she remembers from the space station, and Rags and Simmy recognize their cue.  They race to their Master’s side with their usual ferocious exuberance.   Lord Malgus remains turned to her expectantly and so Eleena follows the dogs at a more sedate pace. 

 

Every eye in the room must surely be on her as she approaches.  Gaius’s face, of course, is as inscrutable as ever.  She never knows what he is thinking behind his guarded expression.  The dogs are jumping up and barking and generally terrifying all the stiff men standing at attention in the near vicinity.  Seeing this, Eleena calls out loudly to them, “Heel!”  Thankfully, the hounds obey.  

 

Eleena, flanked by the dogs, presents herself to Lord Malgus.  He’s looking at her expectantly.  So glancing over to Captain Ledbetter still on his knee, Eleena decides she should do the same.  This is how Sith culture works.  It is a pecking order, with a rigid hierarchy of power and authority that ascends with gradations in class and rank.  At the apex of that triangle here on the _Absolute_ stands one man alone, Darth Malgus.  All publicly submit to him.   And though Eleena might confront Gaius behind closed doors, in public she will grovel like the rest.  Gracefully, she sinks down in a puddle of velvet skirts and lowers her chin.  Eleena has lots of practice at subservience. 

 

“Welcome, Lord Malgus,” she intones. 

 

Eleena endeavors hard to match the grave protocol of the Captain and she does a good job until the dogs intervene.  For seeing her on her knee, the dogs perceive that it is playtime again.  Rags quickly gets all over her with big slurping licks to her face.   Eleena manages to retain her dignity during that but just barely.  But Simmy clearly must feel outdone.  He’s always the one to compete for attention, and this time he just lunges in to put his front paws on her shoulders.  The hundred pound dog bowls her over.  Eleena loses her balance and ends up on her bottom in a half sprawl.  And, whoops, this is not quite the elegantly aloof first impression she had intended. 

 

It goes downhill from there.

 

“Bad doggie,” Eleena gripes.  “You’re ruining it!” she complains to the unrepentant hound who now gives her a big slurping kiss on the lips.  “Bleh!  Bad, bad doggie!”  Eleena is trying hard to smother a nervous chuckle as she feels her face grow hot.  This isn’t the show she intended.  She catches Captain Ledbetter’s amazed, slightly appalled reaction at the scene she presents.  And now, Eleena can no longer hold her giggles in.  At this point, it’s either laugh or cry.  She’s sitting on her butt in her best dress at the feet of her Sith Lord with a quarter of the ship’s crew looking on as she heaves out guffaws.  “That . . .” she chokes out between laughs, “Did not go . . . as planned . . . my lord . . . “

 

Someone in the senior officer group standing nearby snorts. 

 

Another man smothers a laugh. 

 

And that just makes Eleena laugh harder.  She’s laughing so hard that she’s wiping tears from her eyes.  And laughter being somewhat contagious, now others with a front row view of the scene are laughing out loud too.  “I want a do-over,” she complains as she haphazardly gathers her skirts to stand to her feet.   All her concern for elegance and grace has fled in the humiliation of the moment.   

 

Malgus is looking at her with his habitual poker face but Eleena recognizes the twinkle in his eye and the very slight upturn to his lips.  He extends a hand gallantly to raise her to her feet.  She accepts it gratefully as she regains her composure and smooths her dress and her lekku.  With as much solemn dignity as she can muster, Eleena opens her mouth to try to salvage the situation. “My—”

 

“Wuff!”  It’s Ragnos seeking attention with that great rumbling bark of his.

 

Eleena shoots the dog a quelling look and tries again.  “My—”

 

“Wuff! Wuff!” 

 

Eleena hisses, “Bad doggie!”

 

And that is too much for poor Captain Ledbetter who is turning purple from holding in his mirth.  Now he is wheezing out laughter and the rest of his adjacent colleagues have given up the battle now too.  All the senior officers in attendance have succumbed to the utter ridiculousness of it all.   Eleena herself can no longer suppress another embarrassed grin as she covers her face with her hands.  Somehow, she has managed to ruin all the pomp and circumstance of the meticulously choreographed welcome pageant.  Everything was going just fine until she showed up.

 

Lord Malgus surveys them all.  The laughing men, the barking dogs, and her sheepish, perturbed looking self.  “Nothing,” he drawls as he shakes his head, “is ever the same with you around, Leena.”  As he looks her over, he flashes his disarming smile.  It’s such a rare expression that it’s always completely genuine.  And few if any of his senior officers have witnessed it apparently.  Because Lord Malgus’ smile quiets the laughter almost immediately.  The men exchange uncomfortable glances and resume their stiff stance of attention.  And that allows everyone within earshot to hear, “I have missed you, my dear.”

 

He beckons her forward.  Together they sweep down the center aisle of the troop assembly with the undisciplined dogs bringing up the rear.  She looks flustered and annoyed, he looks smug and amused.  And to a man, the assembled troops of the _Absolute_ are fascinated.   It’s a strange irony that an alien woman and a pair of dogs manage to humanize a famously cold and remote Sith Lord.

 

Eleena dutifully marches beside Lord Malgus to the elevator.  In truth, she can’t wait flee the scene.   When the elevator door opens, he gruffly orders all the passengers out.  Taking one look at the towering Sith Lord and his two feared dogs, the men fall over themselves to comply.  Gaius takes her hand now and tugs her in. 

 

Is he going to deliver a dressing down for that unfortunate scene?  No, he’s not.   Quite the opposite, in fact.

 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks the moment the door slides closed and they are alone.

 

It should be a romantic moment, but it’s not.  Just like the reception in the hangar bay should have been a dignified ceremony, but it wasn’t.  None of this is going like it should.  So, Eleena glowers in response.  Kissing?  She’s not in the mood for kissing.  This has been an unmitigated disaster.  She wants to yell at the dogs and then hide away to be by herself.

 

“Well?”  When she doesn’t immediately answer, Gaius raises his eyebrows.  “Can I kiss you now?” he persists, stepping closer.

 

“You might not want to,” Eleena grumbles, still feeling humiliated by her ill-fated public introduction.  “I’m sure I smell like dog.”   Her eyes wander accusingly to the unrepentant hounds who sit docile at their Master’s feet.

 

Gaius is undeterred.  “I’ve been wearing this armor for days.  If this is a contest for stench, I win.”

 

“Eeeeew,” she responds tartly, shooting him a look.  “I’m not sure I want to kiss you.” 

 

Undeterred, he reaches for her, catching her unaware to jerk her close.  As Eleena stumbles into his chest, the Sith Lord reaches his gloved hands to cup her cheeks and lift her chin.  “Liar,” he rasps as his lips hover inches above hers.

 

And staring up into his handsome face, Eleena readily admits the truth.  “Yeah, you’re right,” she breathes out before his lips claim hers for a thorough kiss.  And, oh, it feels so good to be back in this man’s arms.  Eleena doesn’t hold back her enthusiasm.  She reaches up and presses close.  All thoughts of the fiasco in the hangar bay flee her head.  If it were up to her, they’d be heading straight to bed.  But the elevator is heading for the bridge level.  And that means she will have to wait for tonight.  Still, they both make the most of the scant moments they have.  Only the opening elevator door causes them to break apart.  Once more, Eleena is flustered, but this time it’s for a completely different reason. 

 

They are back to striding through crowded hallways together with the dogs trotting along.  Darth Malgus is his usual deliberately oblivious self, but Eleena can’t help but take note of all the double takes and outright stares from the crew.  Plus, there might be a little pink lip gloss on the Sith Lord’s pale cheek . . .   She’s hoping no one sees.

 

“So what happened when I was gone?” he asks easily.  As if this open and notorious bit were no big deal and the people walking around them are not craning their necks and straining their ears to overhear.

 

Gamely, Eleena strives to match his casual tone.  “The quarters look a bit different.  I had Jose bring in some things from the station to make it more comfortable here.”

 

“Fine by me.  Are you wearing your gun like I asked?”

 

“Oh, yes.” 

 

“And did you practice your shooting?”

 

“Yes, almost every day.”  And now Eleena is proud to share her big news that she too will be doing her part for the war effort.   “I’ve been training with the strike team from Zoist.  I’ve learned a lot.  In fact, the team leader has invited me to join them on a real raid.”

 

“No.” 

 

No?  Did she hear him right?  “The raid is in the next few days.  The team will take out a critical enemy supply depot on the surface.  The plan is perfect--”

 

“No, Leena.”  His tone is firm.  It invites no further rebuttal.

 

She stops in her tracks but the Sith Lord keeps on striding ahead.  “Why not?” she calls after him indignantly. 

 

Malgus glances back over his shoulder.  “You heard me.  I’ll be on the bridge for a bit.”

 

Fuming Eleena watches in silence as he rounds the next corner and disappears.  Then, she too stalks off.  Nothing about Lord Malgus’ return is going like she expected.   Well, except for that torrid kiss in the elevator, but it was far too quick.  Frustrated, Eleena takes the dogs down to the arboretum for a good scold.   Neither hound looks particularly contrite when she’s finished venting.  Irked Eleena resolves to leave the dogs in the garden on their own for a bit as punishment, but that doesn’t go over well.  Rags and Simmy have been her frequent companions lately and they are very used to hanging out in the Master’s quarters.  They have grown to expect that priviledge, especially now that the Master has returned.  And, well, she can’t stay mad at the dogs for long.  “Oh, alright.  Come on.”  With a sigh, grumpy Eleena takes the dogs back upstairs to the quarters with her. 

 

When finally she’s behind closed doors, Eleena catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.  And that reminds her anew of her humiliation in the hangar bay.  She cringes just thinking about that awful scene.  If the guys in the strike team make fun of her for it tomorrow at practice, she might just shoot them.  And she might not set for stun. 

 

Wanting no more reminders of that ridiculous display, discouraged and disappointed Eleena kicks off her shoes and decides to get out of her fancy dress.  Maybe that will help brighten her mood.  She has just finished unwinding the ribbon off her left lekku when the door slides open and Gaius strides in unannounced.  What’s he doing here so soon?  Eleena glances over coolly.  “I thought you were on the bridge.”  Then, she starts unwinding the right ribbon. 

 

“Ledbetter has it under control,” Gaius answers as he tosses down the datapad he’s holding.  He’s always holding a datapad.   “I wanted to see you.”

 

Yeah?  Well, if this is a post mortem on her ill-fated appearance in the hangar bay, Eleena will pass.  She slants her eyes his direction and half-pleas, half-growls, “Don’t say a thing.  Don’t you dare laugh at me too.”

 

Lord Malgus crosses his arms and grins.  “You were utterly charming.  Definitely original.”

 

That’s not how she remembers it.  Eleena scowls.  “Please don’t patronize me.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks.  “I know you’re packing heat.  You are a very dangerous woman,” he says proudly like it’s a compliment.  

 

She turns back to the window and resumes unwinding the ribbon.  That prompts him to accuse, “You’re skulking in here pouting, aren’t you?”

 

“I am not pouting,” she pouts.  “It just didn’t turn out like I had planned.”

 

The Sith Lord shrugs. “That’s sort of fitting, Leena.  Nothing about you was planned.  You and I are not meant to be and yet . . . here we are.”  He steps closer now.  Eleena’s hands keep busy weaving around her lekku to undo the intricate wrappings.  He’s watching what she’s doing very intently.  “I’ve never seen you do that before,” he breathes out. 

 

She catches his eye and does a double take.  Unexpectedly, she sees lust.  Inexplicably, this simple task is turning him on. 

 

“Let me,” he inserts himself and now he’s got his hands on her sensitive tentacles.  Stroking and caressing as he slowly unwinds.  And, oh, that feels good.  Eleena closes her eyes.  She’d be lying if she said that kiss in the elevator doesn’t have her craving more. 

 

“I missed you,” he whispers as he bends to kiss the nape of her neck.  It makes her shiver.  But then, she quickly recalls her grumpy mood and steps away.

 

“I can do it,” she reaches testily for the ribbon.

 

“Allow me,” he insists.  And soon the left ribbon falls away to join the right ribbon on the floor.  Her heavy dress starts to fall away too and that’s when Eleena realizes it is fully unzipped.  “I like undressing you,” he tells her as his hands next reach for her bra hook. 

 

She’s still embarrassed and annoyed, and not really in the mood for sex.  All her girlish romantic fantasies of their reunion and her big reveal were sort of killed by that scene earlier.  “Not now—“ she shrugs him off.  

 

“Aren’t you going to welcome me home?” he purrs into her ear from behind.

 

“I tried to . . . it went all wrong.”

 

“Do I need to take you to an elevator to get another kiss?”  He is nuzzling at the back of her lekku now.  It’s a very effective seduction.  “Every time I return, I want you to meet my shuttle.   Then I will whisk you away to the nearest elevator—“

 

“Do we have to talk about this?” she complains.   The less said about that welcome ceremony, the better. 

 

“Then tell me about the raid you want to go on.”

 

Raid?   What raid?  Eleena can barely think straight as her bra falls away and she is naked to the waist with Gaius’ hands fondling her breasts from behind.  He’s still got his heavy gauntlet gloves on and that’s a new and different feeling.  As he squeezes and teases, Eleena chokes out, “It’s a strategic supply depot . . . ”

 

“Yes?”  He’s trailing kisses down the sensitive underside of her lekku.  “And?”   Between his hands and his lips, he is getting her worked up fast.   During their month apart, Eleena has longed for his touch and dreamed of his kisses.  And here he is, in the flesh.  His wandering hands in those leather gloves feel surprisingly nice, too.   Especially on her nipples.

 

“I can do the raid,” Eleena stammers.  The words come out like a sigh as she relaxes beneath his touch.  “The team leader says I can do it.  I’m good enough to do it . . . ”  

 

“I will be the judge of that.”  He starts easing her dress over her hips now with his thumbs.  It drops to the floor and she steps out of it as she whirls in his arms.   They are face to face now. 

 

Enough talking.  Eleena reaches up to pull him down for a proper kiss.   Her resistance was more for her disappointment than for him.  She’s angry at the situation, and not at Gaius. But perhaps, she posits, she can still salvage some of her romantic homecoming daydreams.  Eleena doesn’t want to lose the forest for the trees:   Lord Malgus is home safe and sound and they are reunited and together in each other’s arms. Forget what the crew thinks, right now the only thing that matters is her and Gaius. 

 

Eleena is naked except for the blaster strapped to her shin.  He’s in full battle armor still.  It’s a strangely erotic feeling to be pressed up against him like this with his heavy cloak slipping forward like a curtain around them.

 

“I know you’re good enough to do the raid, but that’s not the point,” he rumbles.

 

“I want to do it,” she whispers as her head lolls back and he explores her throat.  She really wants to do this raid.   “You don’t command me, remember?” 

 

“If you join my army to do raids, I will command you,” he points out.  

 

“Stop talking.”  Why are they discussing this now?   It’s distracting.  

 

“The answer is no,” Lord Malgus whispers between open mouthed, hungry kisses.  “I refuse to lose you on some supply depot raid gone wrong.”

 

Kissing this man is everything.   “I missed you,” she sighs aloud.  “I missed all of you,” she pants.  “Now take that armor off.”  Suddenly, she is impatient to move past kissing.   

 

“So demanding,” he chides as he unclasps his cape.   Then, he confides, “I love you like this.   Naked and telling me what to do.”

 

“In that case,” she fixes him with a look, “I demand that you let me do the raid on Ziost.”

 

“Nice try,” he mutters as he tugs her towards the bed.  “But I rescued you from that planet once already.  I’m not doing it again.”

 

She’s about to retort that she is well trained but he claims her mouth for another torrid kiss.  Still, he must guess her thoughts because when they both come up for air he cajoles, “You don’t have anything to prove to me or anyone else.   There is no need for you to risk combat.”   His lips are soft and his voice is too.  “You are precious to me.  I want to keep you safe.”

 

When is he going to get out of that armor?   This is taking too long.  She’s ready to go.   But then, his leg brushes against hers and jostles the gun in her shin holster.  Whoops.  She forgot about that.  Eleena is so used to wearing the secret gun that she has forgotten it’s still on. 

 

Abruptly, she plops down on the bed and pulls up her knee to fiddle with the holster.   Glancing up as her fingers begin to unbuckle the strap, she tells watching Gaius, “The raid isn’t about proving myself.  It’s because I hate the Republic.”   That darn top strap is sticking again and this is rather awkward task to do naked with an audience.   And why isn't he taking all that armor off yet?  “I want revenge,” she confesses as she looks up again.  She finds Lord Malgus staring at her intently.  Suddenly, Eleena realizes what a picture she must make doing this just wearing panties with her naked breasts and tummy roll spilling everywhere.  She’s uncomfortable enough with her lumpy body, even if she tends to forget that around Gaius.  But now, she remembers it keenly. 

 

But if Lord Malgus is looking to find fault, it doesn’t show.  The man looks transfixed.  His eyes flash yellow now as he watches.  “Leave the gun on,” he commands hoarsely.  “Take the rest off.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Do it.”

 

She complies with a little shimmy to lose her panties.  But he’s still overdressed for this.  No matter. Lord Malgus is unbuckling just the critical armor piece at the waist now as he looms over her enraptured.  “Say it again.” He pushes her back onto the bed and settles himself between her legs.  “Say it,” he urges as he positions himself.  “Tell me why you want to do the raid.”

 

“I want revenge,” she whispers, excited by his physical nearness and sudden, magnetic intensity.  The anticipation is killing her.  Her legs are spread wide in an open invitation.  His eyes flash yellow again and she repeats huskily, “I want revenge . . . I want revenge against the Republic.”

 

That’s what a Dark Lord lives to hear.  With a groan, Gaius thrusts himself in.   And now, she is being ravished by a Sith in full armor.  Here is the victorious hero home from the war.  Here is the lover she has lain awake longing for.  Here is the man who set her free and saved her life.  There will be time to savor their reunion, but this is not it.  This is down and dirty, rough and hard, sweaty and slippery sex.  Eleena has her leg with the gun still strapped to it up at his ear as Gaius puts his back into it.  His armor is hard and pokes her skin, but she doesn’t care.  All talking has ceased as Lord Malgus commits himself to the task at hand.  Eleena meets him thrust for thrust.  It is a frenzy of pleasure for them both. A much-needed release after a lonely month spent apart. 

 

Afterwards, she’s curled up into his armored chest.  “Let’s do that once a day,” she murmurs contentedly.

 

“At least,” he agrees.  “Now, tell me everything that happened while I was gone.  Don’t leave anything out.”

 

“You first,” she insists.  “Tell me about Ziost.”  

 

He does.  As usual, Lord Malgus does not sugarcoat things.  He tells it like it is, with a brutal objectivity that strips the story of any grandiose heroics and glory.  His version of Ziost is a gory, frustrating tale of missed opportunities and bad leadership.  Of infighting and backstabbing.  Of arrogance and incompetence.  These problems have longed plagued the Sith military.  And on Ziost, they very nearly resulted in defeat.  Too many Sith Lords vying for position and bragging rights impedes unity.  Eleena listens as he complains of commanders who have more Force than brains, more talent than experience, and more confidence than true knowledge.  He would rather have a well-trained, well-equipped professional army of non-Force sensitives than the current system of mini-fiefdoms presided over by rival Dark Lords. 

 

“We are better than this.  The Empire is better than this,” he contends.  But his warnings have fallen on deaf ears, as usual.  Yet again, Darth Malgus was called in to save the day and then ushered out once the danger has passed.  I’m the fixer of the Sith navy, he complains.  I clean up other peoples’ messes, and that means I don’t get the respect I deserve.  Because to acknowledge my contribution requires them to admit to their own shortcomings.

 

Eleena commiserates.  She knows what it means to feel underestimated and unappreciated.  But all this talk of Ziost has her thinking of the upcoming strike team mission.  “So . . . about that raid on the supply depot . . .”  She’s not giving up.

 

He sighs and gripes, “Did you hear nothing I just said about how bad things are on Ziost?  Have you noticed all the new marks on my armor?  Why won’t you let me protect you from that?  Leena, I want you to be safe.”

 

“Don’t start trying to chase me away again,” she teases lightly.   “Because I’ve heard it all before, and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

He sits up now and levels her a serious look.  “The safest thing for you is to keep far, far away from me.”

 

Yes, she knows.  But whatever.   She’s all in for this man. “It’s too late for that,” she smiles up at him happily. 

 

“And to keep far, far away from Ziost,” he continues.  “Do that for me, at least.  I don’t want to lose you.  Leena, do not go looking for danger.  You are already at risk here with me.”

 

“Alright,” she backs down, persuaded less by his logic and more by his uncharacteristically vulnerable expression.   Because when this man drops his mask of indifference, he is far from cold natured.  “You win,” she relents.   He looks satisfied, so she pulls him back down and snuggles up.  “I missed you. I missed you so much.” Still basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Eleena freely gushes out her feelings.  “I’m so glad you’re back.”

 

“It’s good to be back.”  He drops a kiss on the top of her head.  “It’s good to be home.”   And now, to belie his earlier warning, Lord Malgus hugs her tighter and requests, “Never leave me.  Leena, I want you to stay with me even after I marry Serevin’s daughter.”

 

“But I thought that you said—”

 

He overrides her.  “Lady Cassis will be my official wife for show on Dromund Kaas.  But you will be my real wife here on the ship.”   

 

“Oh.” What does that mean exactly?  She isn’t sure.  And Eleena is a little taken aback by the offer, but she’s pleased as well.  Maybe today hasn’t gone so badly after all after all.  “Well, okay.  If you’re sure about that.”

 

He drops another kiss on her head.  “I am.”


	29. Chapter 29

The next morning, Darth Malgus makes the rounds on his ship, poking his nose into everything that has occurred during his monthlong absence.  It feels good to be back on the _Absolute_.   Captain Ledbetter has been running a tight ship and Malgus is impressed.  It’s good to see that at least here the Sith army has got its act together.   Darth Angral’s command ship the _Oppressor_ stands in sharp contrast, Malgus knows firsthand.  The Sith flagship is overrun with Dark Lords with their own agendas and too much time on their hands.  They meddle in everything, causing rampant confusion down the chain of command.

 

Malgus is disgusted by it all.  The infighting, the backstabbing, the posturing, and the politics.  The Sith army is nowhere near as effective as it might be because of its pervasive culture of mistrust and showmanship.  All of that dysfunctional leadership may well cost them Ziost, he worries.  And since that planet truly is the gateway to the Empire, losing Zoist could mean losing the war.  Is this invasion the beginning of the end of the Empire?   Malgus is increasingly concerned it might be.  For the Sith army is bogged down and continually falling behind on its objectives to retake its conquered world.   

 

Naturally, he had complained long and hard to Darth Angral about it.  The Sith Admiral had listened and then vociferously argued back.  Turning the tables and placing the blame squarely on him.  Malgus, you yourself subvert the chain of command regularly, Angral had accused.  You do it with better results and a different intent, but the effect is the same.  No one likes you, Malgus. You’re the one everyone loves to hate, but the others see your war record and it is a marker for them to beat.  And so, your renegade ways embolden others to do the same.  So do not pretend that you are not part of the problem, Angral had jeered.  In your own way, you’re just as bad as them.  

 

Those harsh words had hit home.  They were the reason why Malgus had hung around the command ship for a few days after his humiliating recall from the surface.   He had some success rallying the rank and file troops but he was ineffectual with his Dark Lord peers.  It was frustrating.   Humbling too.  For it had demonstrated conclusively that Malgus himself does not have the respect and gravitas to lead the Core invasion, if it ever happens.  Someone like aristocratic Darth Angral will need to lead it with Malgus at his side.  In all likelihood, he will be the brains behind it all but he will have to share the glory.   And in the end, he may well get shunted aside just like he had on Ziost. 

 

Is Angral right and he himself is part of the problem?  Malgus’ recent experience with his peers makes him worry that he cannot be part of any overall solution.  He’s concerned that he is becoming marginalized, that his problems are far bigger than Ziost.  He fears that he is perceived more as a tool than as a real leader.  And if that’s true, where does that leave him?   Malgus has big ambitions for himself and for the Sith, but he is starting to worry that those dreams will never come true.   

 

What if the war is unwinnable?  What if the war’s outcome is not just a divided galaxy, but outright defeat?   For the first time ever, Darth Malgus is contemplating that horrific possibility.  If this war drags on much longer, it could drag on forever.  A century from now—no—maybe a millennium from now, the Sith will still be fighting the Republic.  The galaxy will still be fractured.   The two sides of the Force will still be at odds. The Jedi cult will still persist.  There will be disorder everywhere.  And this vicious cycle of war will continue on and on.   

 

The Sith need to change if victory is to be achieved.  That’s the bottom line, Malgus concludes. 

 

But change how?   The problems, he fears, are endemic.  They go to the core of the Sith culture itself.  And how do you remedy that?  Malgus doesn't know.  But he’s no Jedi heretic.  His faith in Darkness is firm.  It’s his belief in the Sith Empire that is on shaky ground. 

 

Why doesn't the Emperor intervene, he asked old Darth Azamin last week point blank.  ‘Everything is proceeding as he has foreseen’ was the Dark Council member’s cryptic answer.   And, as far as Malgus was concerned, it was a non-answer.  The Empire needs leadership.  It requires someone to call the Dark Lords to heel and to spark their zeal to win anew.  To demand that they put aside their differences temporarily to work for the common good.   But, apparently, the Emperor cannot be bothered to do so.

 

Cynically, Malgus worries that Emperor Vitiate might be just fine with the status quo.  All those who gain power fear to lose it, as everyone knows.  Does the Sith Emperor prefer to rule half the galaxy rather than make the hard changes necessary to rule it all?   Does the Emperor prefer to keep his Dark Lords fighting one another rather than risk them unifying to perhaps one day unseat him?   Malgus has his own private theories on the Emperor.  But this is the one topic where Darth Malgus prefers to leave things unsaid.  He’s no fool. 

 

Malgus is even starting to question whether this marriage alliance with Darth Serevin will yield any real benefits.  Perhaps, Malgus worries, he has missed his chance to curry favor with the Sith Establishment.  Were he ten years younger and less advanced in his career and his ways, Serevin’s support might be of more value.  And if this were a typical marriage that would in time yield sons to be apprenticed to important allies, that too might solidify a foothold for Malgus with his peers.  But he worries now that this marriage alliance is too little, too late.  That he won’t get his money’s worth.  That this alliance will only change things at the margins. 

 

One thing is for certain:  this sham marriage to Lady Cassis is not worth giving up Leena as a gesture of goodwill.  Malgus meant what he told her last night about being his unofficial wife.  Eleena Daru’s heart is loyal and her motives are true.  She’s not in this for anyone but him.  And damn, it feels good to have someone believe in him.  The irony that it’s a Republic born and raised slave woman who accepts and endorses his views is not lost on Malgus.  It just confirms what he has long known:  that he is an outsider with an outsider’s perspective.  And in the insular world of the Sith, he might as well be a voice in the wilderness.

 

But even though everyone hates him, they want his help all the same.  Whatever else, Malgus remains the premier strategist of the Sith.  He suspects that the coming stalemate on Ziost will bring renewed focus on his Core invasion counteroffensive.  Once again, everyone will look to him for a path forward out of the morass.  This is his opening to turn things around.  Here is his chance to prove all his enemies wrong.

 

He has most of the details for the invasion worked out.  His battle plan is based on overwhelming force that will shock and awe the Republic.  With so many of the Republic forces committed on Ziost and blockaded in by the Sith, sending meaningful reinforcements to defend the Core will be hard.  That should enable the Sith time to obliterate Coruscant and then resume their efforts to dislodge the enemy from Ziost.

 

What he doesn’t have is a good ruse to position all the necessary firepower.  First, Malgus has to assemble a massive military force in the Core without attracting attention.  Second, he has to do so without compromising the Ziost blockade.  The element of surprise is critical and Malgus has yet to figure it out.  He wasted weeks chasing an idea to employ the giant drone ships used on trade routes as a ruse but he has since abandoned that idea.  Now, he’s back to square one. 

 

So, with his military leadership role floundering and his alternative Plan B underdeveloped, it had been an easy decision to decamp back to the _Absolute_.  On his own ship he can focus without all the haters standing around throwing shade.  Plus, Leena is here.  Now, more than ever, Malgus needs the comfort and support of her company. 

 

Malgus will admit this only to her, but he is very discouraged.  Leena listens quietly, her intelligent eyes full of sympathy as he pours out his frustrations over dinner and in pillow talk.  She asks a few pointed questions now and then, but mostly Leena listens until his words exhaust themselves. 

 

“What you are saying is common sense,” she summarizes one night.

 

“But no one hears it because first they consider who is saying it,” Malgus gripes.  He is starting to realize that the brashness of his youth and his prickly personality have consequences that are coming home to roost.  It’s definitely limiting his success.  Perhaps Angral is right and he is his own worst enemy.

 

“At least you are not a slave,” she says softly.  “Gaius, you’re a Sith Lord.  And a very prominent leader in your time.”

 

“It’s not enough,” he sighs.  He’s a man who wants to make a lasting impact on the Empire.  To do more than just fight never ending battles with the enemy and with his difficult peers.  This is all because of who he is, Malgus knows.  Were he an aristocrat like Darth Angral or Darth Adraas, none of this would be so hard.  “Is it wrong to want a world that is more fair?” he complains.  “Where someone must earn their place?  Where everyone gets an equal chance to try for success?”  This middle class raised, secretly illegitimate Dark Lord has long championed merit and fairness.  It’s why he is far more popular with the everyman Sith infantryman than he is with his entitled peers.

 

“No, it’s not,” Leena responds.  “But whether you are in the Empire or the Republic, that’s not how life works.”   She says this softly, her voice full of resignation.  “Life just isn’t fair.” Something about the way this former slave woman says those words makes Lord Malgus feel ashamed.  Like he has been whining over nothing compared to what poor Leena has seen.  The prejudices he confronts are nothing compared to her experience.

 

“You should write all of this down,” she urges him.  “Make a record of all of your ideas and your wisdom.  About the war, about the Sith, about the Force.  There are some leaders whose ideas are ahead of their time.  People have to catch up and evolve to their perspective.  Perhaps you are one of them.” 

 

Malgus shakes his head.  “You can speak truth to power, but it falls on deaf ears.  They don’t listen and I can’t make them listen.  Writing it down won’t change a thing.  It will be wasted effort.  No one will ever read it.”

 

“You might be wrong about that,” she protests.  “The Sith rivals who disdain you still send their sons to learn under your command.  I think you might be surprised by how interested others will be in your ideas written down.”

 

He snorts.  “You mean without me in person spouting them off?”

 

She chooses a more diplomatic answer.  Slave born, slave bred Leena knows how to diffuse tension from long practice.   She never pursued conflicts she couldn’t win.  Instead, she comes at the issue another way.  “If you are correct about the risks and blind spots of your culture, then you will be proven right in the end.  Do this for posterity, if for nothing else.  So that others may learn from your insights and your struggles.”

 

“I am a man of war, not a man of letters.”  He’s no professor.

 

Again, she cheerleads even as she contradicts him.  “You are many, many things.   War is just one of them.  Gaius, don’t sell yourself short.  Others do enough of that for you already.”

 

It’s gently said but she has a point.  “So . . . you think I should keep a journal?   Write some sort of manifesto?”  This strikes him as an exercise in narcissism.

 

“Yes.   It could be your legacy.  Just think about it,” she cajoles.  And that approach is very her.  Leena will only argue so far before she backs down.  But even when she differs with him, it’s motivated with the best of intentions.  For a woman who has lived a largely wretched life, Eleena Daru has a lot of generosity of spirit and a deep reserve of inner conviction.  It’s one more thing to admire about her. 

 

Malgus reaches across the dinner table to take her hand in his.  Leena smiles encouragingly and he smiles back.  It feels good to have someone believe in him.  And it feels good to have a confidante he can trust.

 

“A journal’s not a bad idea,” he decides.  It could be a legacy of sorts.  He is unlikely to have any sons and he has yet to take an Apprentice.  And he has no doubt that the history books will get him wrong . . . if he’s even in them.   A journal will be a chance to set forth his version of events and articulate his ideas in his own words.

 

“Who knows?” she teases.  “Maybe someday you will get an audience with the Emperor if he reads it.”

 

Malgus very much doubts that.  But he does consider the journal suggestion.  The more he thinks it over, the more appealing it becomes.  And so, the very next day he starts.

 

Leena never again raises the issue of participating in the strike team’s upcoming raid.  She keeps training daily and the mission keeps being postponed.  Unfortunately, nothing good is happening on the ground at Ziost. 

 

He has no intention of letting Leena put herself in harm’s way, but Malgus can’t help but be impressed by her zeal.  He wishes others in the Empire felt as strongly as she does.  He’s also curious to see what she has learned.  And so, one day when he’s taking a break from his invasion planning, he wanders down to the main training facility.  Everywhere in the giant complex there are men perfecting their skills at war.  The machismo down here is almost palpable.  And in the midst of it all, is Eleena Daru.

 

“My lord.” Malgus nods to the Ziost special ops team leader who snaps to attention at his approach.  He’s not the only one who instantly reacts to his appearance in the cavernous room.  “What can we do for you, my lord?” the man asks respectfully.

 

This must be Lieutenant Commander Barker, who he vaguely remembers from that frenetic rescue mission.  “At ease, soldier,” Malgus tells him.  “I’m just here to observe.  Tell me about the drill.”  The Sith Lord nods in the direction of where Leena is firing her pistols.  She has her back to him and she’s focused on her work, so she doesn’t yet know he is here. 

 

It’s a mock raid against ten battle droids stationed behind defensive barriers.  There are a few cover positions for the five-man attack team, but not enough for all.  One team member has a backpack full of mock explosive charges to lay.  The mission is to destroy the droids and lay the charges and then make a run for it.  It’s a standard operation not unlike the one Leena had wanted to try for real down on Ziost.  As usual for training work, the droids are all set to the lowest level of stun.  But they are also set to a high degree of difficulty with rapid fire and very accurate aim.  The raid has two objectives—to beat the droids but also to beat the clock.  The raid is timed because in real combat the element of surprise is fleeting.  Take too long to achieve your objective and you will have to contend with enemy reinforcements or an airstrike. 

 

Malgus watches as the soldier carrying the backpack gets hit with a glancing stun charge and slumps to the ground.  Leena immediately targets the incoming droid to neutralize it with three well placed shots.  She takes up the backpack from the fallen man and the drill goes on.  The progress is slow but methodical.  In all, three men including Leena survive the raid.  The mock charges are laid and the survivors get out.  The exercise is over.  The temporarily stunned ‘casualty’ soldier quickly wakes up and shakes it off to the gentle ribbing of his colleagues.

 

“Leena is very good, Sir,” the strike team leader standing at his side remarks.  “She has great instincts and she’s surprisingly nimble for her size.”

 

Malgus nods and reveals offhand, “I trained her a bit myself.  She was a natural from the first time she picked up a gun.  She has great eye-hand coordination.”

 

“She’s fun, too,” the Lieutenant Commander adds with a smile as he excuses himself to debrief the team. 

 

Watching the body language from a distance, it’s clear that the unit is treating Leena as an adjunct member.  She has charmed his men, Malgus sees.  And, honestly, he is not surprised.  There is something very appealing about Leena.  She’s a team player, and that is important in a setting like this.  She’s probably the best shot of the bunch, he also perceives.  But if she knows it, she doesn’t seem to acknowledge it.  In a world of competitive, proud fighting men that’s important.  None of these guys wants to be shown up by a woman. Maybe that’s not fair, but it’s true.  No doubt those same dynamics also make it extra hard for the seven female officers on his ship.  But Leena is not an officer and this is not her career.  This is purely training for self-defense. 

 

Finally, someone on the team other than Barker notices him standing off to the side observing.   The man says something and instantly Leena’s attention is on him.  Her open, easy manner changes instantly.  Suddenly, she is much more reserved.  No doubt she’s worried about how to appear in public with him.  And after that ridiculous scene with the dogs when he arrived, Malgus can’t blame her.  He marches forward now to join the group and everyone but Leena snaps to rigid attention.  She doesn’t seem to know what to do.

 

“Well done,” he approves of their joint efforts.  Then he turns to Leena as he reconsiders.  “You’re getting much better on the left but you still favor the right.  Keep working on that.”  And now, he scrutinizes her makeshift training outfit.  She’s wearing low boots that appear to be designed more for fashion than combat, loose black pants with her snub blaster holster worn on the outside, basic standard issue shooting gloves, and what looks like his undershirt.  He’s not certain since there is a patchwork of light grade body armor rigged on her upper half.  He’s amused by this makeshift uniform.  It’s a close approximation, but not quite what the male infantrymen wear. “Where did you get that armor?” he asks.  He’s intrigued.

 

“I borrowed it.  Everyone says moving in armor takes some getting used to.  So I thought I should practice a bit.”

 

“For self-defense?” he asks with skeptical raised eyebrows. 

 

Leena answers glumly.  “It for was the raid that I’m not going to do.”

 

“Sir, about that—” the team leader begins.

 

But Malgus waves him quiet.  “Armor does take some getting used to.”  He evaluates her efforts now.  “If you’re going to wear armor, you should wear it where it will do the most good.  All the vital organs must be covered.  You need to wear the full chest piece.”

 

Eleena blushes and stammers, “I would, my lord, but the standard chest piece doesn’t fit.”

 

He smirks.  “It wasn’t designed with women in mind.  Maybe you should rig something from other pieces for now.  Try making something with the knee guards.”

 

She blinks at this suggestion.  “Seriously?”

 

“Yes.  You need the bottom back piece too,” he informs her as he peers over her shoulder now.  “Blaster wounds to the torso are often fatal and you can’t stop the bleeding with a tourniquet.  So cover all the way down the front and the back.”

 

“Er . . . ”

 

“Let me guess — the standard armor won’t fit you there either?” 

 

Leena shoots him a quick indignant look before her eyes find the ground.  She’s beet red beneath her blue skin. 

 

Malgus smothers a grin.  He’s got the full ten-member strike team looking on and listening in.  He needs to stay in full Sith Lord mode.  “Find something to make do,” he orders gruffly.  And then before he can stop himself, he adds, “You’ve got big targets, Leena.” 

 

While she turns even more red, Malgus walks into the practice arena.  He’s standing about ten meters apart from the group.  “Alright, Leena.  Show me what you have learned.  Shoot me,” he orders.  “Use your left hand.”

 

She frowns.  “This again?”

 

“Yes.  Now, look sharp.”

 

“Okay.”  She shoots squarely for his chest.  Malgus concentrates and deflects the bolt right back at her with an upraised bare hand and the help of the Force.  She lunges away and yelps.  The shot misses her.

 

“Good.  Now, shoot the next guy who walks in.  Aim for the head.”  Malgus points towards an unsuspecting man who walks in at the entrance far across the room.  Leena shoots for the incoming target with her dead center aim.  This time, Malgus freezes the bolt in front of the startled man. 

 

“Very good.  Now,” he calls a weapon from the team leader’s holster into his open hand, “shoot the blaster out of my hand.”

 

Leena again hits her mark.

 

“Excellent.” Malgus catches the flying weapon, inspects it for damage, and tosses it back as he walks to rejoin the group.  Across the room, he releases the frozen blaster bolt to harmlessly dissipate.  He commends the team leader now, “She’s getting better.  Your practice is doing her some good.”

 

Leena beams ear to ear at this praise.  “Does that mean you will reconsider?” she ventures hopefully.  “About the raid on Ziost?”

 

“You are not prepared for real combat,” he dismisses her request.

 

“I survived that practice raid just now, didn’t I?” she points out.

 

“You are not training to become a soldier.  This is for self-defense.  My enemies will come for you again,” he warns.  “And this time, it might not be the Republic.”

 

“I want to fight for the Empire,” she proclaims boldly as she lifts her chin.  “I want to liberate my home world.”

 

He snorts.  “You lived there three months.”

 

“It’s still my home,” she counters softly.  “It’s the only home I ever chose.”

Something about the quiet way she says this gives him pause.  Again, he finds himself reconsidering.  But he dismisses those thoughts.  “You can express your patriotism somewhere other than the frontlines,” he shuts her down.  “These men,” he gestures to the strike team members looking on, “didn’t risk life and limb rescuing you so that you could fall captive again.  The next time might not have a happy ending.”

 

“I could do it.  I know I can,” she persists.  She’s challenging him before his men in a way he wishes she wouldn’t.

 

So Malgus decides another tactic is needed to help her understand.  “Fine.”  To the surprise of everyone, he shrugs out of the traditional hooded Sith robe he is wearing, stripping down to just his boots, black shirt and pants.  Then he calls a bunch of battle droids to him with the Force, fiddling with them briefly.  Finally, he plucks his saber from his waist to ignite.   At the snap-hiss activation of his sword, all eyes dart his way.  No one in the large, busy room is pretending not to watch at this point.   Leena sees it too. 

 

“Alright, Leena,” he waves away the others, “Show me what you’ve got.”  He gestures over towards a practice barricade on the drill course.  “I’ll let even let you start behind some cover.  Your goal is to get past the droids to the pole over there.”

 

She counts the droids warily.  “Seven?  One against seven?” 

 

“Too many for you?” he gibes.  He’s sort of enjoying her dismay.  He’s making a point here.

 

“Oh, er . . . no.  Well, maybe . . . “

 

“And just so you know, the droids are set to full strength,” he lies. 

 

“Full strength?” she echoes.  “But we usually train set to a low stun.”

 

Malgus raises his eyebrows.  “You are not ready for real combat then?”

 

“Yes, I am,” she maintains.  But some of her vehemence is gone.

 

“Then demonstrate it.  Seven droids set full strength.”  Malgus steps back behind the grouping of droids. “Are you ready to begin?” he prompts her.

 

“Wait, you’re not at my back?  We’re not doing this together?”  She’s confused.  And alarmed.

 

“No.  In this drill, I am the Jedi you will unexpectedly encounter.”

 

“Oh.” He watches her visibly swallow.  She’s having second thoughts now.

 

“You’re facing me plus all seven droids alone.  Set to full strength blaster fire.  Still think you are ready for combat?”  He raises an eyebrow again. “Combat is not always what you expect.  Intel is often bad or outdated.”

 

“Oh.”  Leena’s face says it all.  “Well, yes, I guess . . .”  She rallies now and visibly swallows.  “Sure, I can do this,” she starts her own pep talk.  “I’m sure there were more than seven Republic troopers when we blasted our way off your old ship,” she recalls as the strike team members exchange looks.  “I survived that.  I can survive this,” she declares.

 

He’s enjoying her bravado.  So, he plays along.  “Then what is your first move?”

 

She answers automatically.  “Disable the Jedi . . er . . . you, my lord.”

 

“And the next?”

 

“Get out of here, if I can.”

 

Malgus can’t help it—he chuckles.  So much for staying in full Sith mode.

 

“What?” she is defensive.  “You’re supposed to pick your battles, right?  Seven men and a Jedi against just me?  This is not a battle I would pick.”

 

“Not going to be a hero?  Right.  I can accept that.  This isn’t a suicide mission.”  Now he extends his left hand and another lightsaber floats over to him from his discarded cloak.  Malgus ignites it.

 

“Hey!  No fair!” she chokes and points.  “No fair that you can have two!”

 

“All is fair in war, Leena.  Never forget that.  And combat isn’t always what you train for or what you expect.”  She nods at this wisdom and looks very somber now as she stares first at his pair of buzzing sabers and then at the droids behind him.  Malgus’ voice softens.  “Are you still up for this?”  He gives her a way out.  “Leena, it’s okay to say no.  You don’t have to do this.  In fact, I would prefer that you don’t.  The goal of self-defense is to stay alive, so your idea to flee is exactly right in this situation.”

 

But Leena is still considering.  “If I do this,” she starts negotiating as she stares at the seven droids in front of him, “You have to let me do the raid.  Please, my lord--”

 

“I told you no,” he complains but then agrees, “Impress me and I’ll think about it.”

 

“Okay, you’re on,” she decides grimly.  Then, she starts shooting at him. 

 

“Did I say start?” he wonders aloud as he harmlessly parries the shots away.  “I don’t recall saying start.”  He activates the droids in front of him now with the Force. 

 

“Combat isn’t always what you expect, right?” she answers back through gritted teeth.  She keeps one gun firing on him while the other gun targets the battle droids.  She easily takes out two droids but then gets stalled as he steps in front of the rest.  She keeps trying tactics to disable him, even shooting for his toes.  “Inventive,” he approves as again he jumps.  He’s moving closer now to flush her out from behind the barricade.  It works.  She darts out and succeeds in taking out another droid.  But then she gets hit.  It’s a shot to her right upper arm that causes her to drop one gun.  As she reacts, the droid gets a second shot squarely to her chest.

 

With the help of the Force, Malgus is there in an instant to keep her from crashing to the floor.  Her eyes are wide and now she’s gasping for breath.  He can tell she’s struggling to hold onto consciousness against the powerful stun sedative.  It’s the lowest stun setting, but it’s clear that Leena must never get hit in practice because she doesn’t seem to recognize this feeling.  And, based on the lie he had told her, she probably thinks she’s dying.  Everyone else around her certainly fears she is.

 

“Eleena!” the team leader is at his side.  “How bad is it?  Did the armor take any of the hit?”  He’s barking orders now, “Someone get a medic droid! NOW!”

 

“Leena—” he’s about to reveal the truth of the harmless stun when she hushes him with tears in her eyes and grasping clawlike hands against his forearms. 

 

Eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep awake, Leena rasps out what she thinks is her last goodbye.  “Screw them all.  Go get everything you want.  Take control and . . . make things the way you . . . want them to be. . . Gaius . . . you should be the Emperor . . . “

 

“Leena—”

 

“I don’t blame you . . . it was my decision.  Please remember me . . . and feed the dogs . . .“

 

He shakes her some in an effort to keep her awake a few seconds longer.  “You’re not dying.  That was a stun bolt.  You will be perfectly fine in five minutes."

 

Her eyes are closed now but her mouth still works.  Leena tells him distinctly, “In that case, fuck you . . . you . . . lying . . . Sith . . . prick . . .” 

 

Darth Malgus throws his head back at this and laughs.  

 

The team leader standing next to him has huge eyes now.  

 

Leena’s final words are one long slur.  “You’re sleeping on the couch . . . for a week, my lor—“  She never finishes her sentence.  Instead she slumps forward in his arms as unconscious deadweight. 

 

The team leader is very concerned.  “You’re sure that was a stun bolt?”

 

“Yes, yes,” Malgus says impatiently as he stokes her lekku and whispers in her ear.  “I’ll make it up to you.”  But if she can hear him, she makes no sign.  She’ll probably be out for a good seven or eight minutes, he judges, based on her double hit.

 

He shifts unconscious Leena into his left arm.  She is a rag doll collapsed on his shoulder and held upright by his arm snaked around her waist.  It’s an intimate posture that is lost on no one.  But the plan was to be open and notorious so it’s fine, he figures.  Malgus turns back to the team leader.  He tells it like it is.  “She is well trained.  Leena could hold her own in a fight.” 

 

The team leader clearly has no idea what to make of what he has seen and heard.  Warily he responds, “Thank you, my lord.   Eleena is an excellent shot.”

 

Malgus continues his blunt assessment.  “It still won’t be enough to keep her alive.  She and the rest of you will be dead on Ziost because there are Jedi everywhere.”  The presence of a Jedi is always a game changer.  And you never know when or where they will pop up.  Plus, usually they herald an incipient ambush.   Malgus looks over the assembled strike team of ten seasoned veterans.  “Ziost has changed since you were there.  I spent the last month in the thick of the worst fighting.  I watched a lot of good men die.  None of you has the skills to survive on Ziost for long.  There’s just too many Jedi.”

 

No one has any response to this sobering speech.

 

“When is this raid again?”  Malgus asks.

 

“It’s scheduled for next week.  But it may get pushed back again,” Lieutenant Commander Barker answers.

 

“It will,” Malgus predicts with certainty.  “We are losing pitifully still.  Don’t believe what you hear on the official newsfeeds.  We are very far behind on even the revised strategic objectives.”  He looks to the strike team leader now.  “Tell me about the raid.   I want all the details.”

 

Barker starts describing a mission deep behind the current enemy lines to blow up a storage depot adjacent to a major spaceport.  It’s an important strategic move to take out the enemy’s supply stockpiles.  But it’s far from an easy raid.  Malgus sighs and looks the strike team members over again one by one.  These brave men had volunteered for the dangerous, off-the-record mission to find Leena.  He owes them everything.  Plus, this is the best special ops team he has.  So, Malgus makes a bold decision.

 

Leena is beginning to rouse on his shoulder as he announces, “I want you to learn to fight against a Jedi.  That’s something very different from what you know.  It’s a little unorthodox, but I refuse to send any more men to be slaughtered on Ziost.”

 

“Whaaat?”  It’s Leena waking up.  “G-Gaius??”

 

“Shhh . . . rest easy,” he soothes.  “You’re okay.”  Then, he turns back to the men.  “I will train you personally.  We start tomorrow.  Leena included.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”  The men salute.

 

“Dismissed,” he orders the team. 

 

Now fully awake Leena pushes back from him and straightens up.  She’s glaring at him as she blinks and regains her equilibrium.  And, honestly, it’s kind of cute.  No one else would dare do that but her. 

 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly.  He’s concerned.  She was stunned twice.

 

“I’m fine,” she is snippy in her response. 

 

“Good.”  He beckons to her as he calls his discarded cloak to his hand with the Force.  He settles it about his shoulders and pulls up the hood.  “Come.  You can yell at me in private.”

 

They walk in silence back to his quarters.  But when they arrive, Leena surprises him.  She’s not angry.  His point had gotten through.  Leena is subdued.  A little apologetic, even.  

 

Settled on the couch next to him, she miserably admits, “I guess the lesson of today is that I’m not ready for combat.   It’s not a game, I know.  I don’t want to throw my life away or take a foolish risk.   That was never the point.”   She looks very woebegone now. “I just want to do something to help.  Especially now that you are back and I have heard how bad things truly are on Ziost.”

 

She looks to him with unabashed admiration in her eyes.  “I see what you do, I know how much you care.  That’s the real difference between you and the other Sith Lords.  Gaius, they are in it for themselves.  It doesn’t matter to them if the war drags on so long as they achieve their own aims.  That’s why they desert their troops to rush after a Jedi to duel.  They don’t care if men die so long as they get a lightsaber for a trophy to take home.  But that’s not you.  That’s not how you lead your troops or fight your war.  You are so much more than those small-minded men could ever dream of being.”  She bites her lip and looks a little sheepish before continuing.  “I know you worry that no one listens.  But I do.  You have inspired me.  I know given the chance you could inspire others.”

 

And there she goes again on one of her spectacular pep talks.  When Leena speaks from the heart like this, there is nothing he will deny her. It’s how she ended up living here on his ship in the first place.

 

He reveals his plan now.  “I want you and the team to learn to fight against a Jedi.  I will teach you myself.  No one is going to Ziost without knowing those techniques.”   In the four weeks of daily on-the-ground infantry combat, Malgus learned many of the Republic’s new tactics.  He plans to teach the team those skills, too.  

 

“But I don’t have the Force.  No one on the team does,” Leena protests. 

 

Malgus nods at her confusion.  Her reaction is a common misperception among laymen of the Force.  “Everyone has the Force flowing through them even if only a few of us can control it.  But even so, there are techniques for the Force blind to defend against a Jedi.”

 

“Oh.  Okay.”  She’s clearly skeptical.  “I didn’t know that.”

 

“It’s not common knowledge.  The Jedi don’t exactly advertise it.  But there were Jedi Masters centuries ago who could use the Light Side of the Force to temporarily disrupt the connection of a Sith Lord to the Dark Side.  The Sith would have to fight without the reflexes, the speed, and the tricks of the Force.  That’s how these techniques were developed.”  Only Sith Lords know these skills.  And no one, not even himself, has ever tried to teach them to laymen.  But Malgus is more egalitarian than most, and he sees real potential benefits here even if it’s a bit unorthodox.  “The strategies are not foolproof, but it will be something to help level the playing field.”

 

“Are they hard?” she asks.  

 

“It depends.  Some of the tactics are easy.   I like to frustrate a Jedi.  To use their emotions against them.  When all that calm and inner peace desert them, they lose focus.  Strong emotion weakens them.”

 

“You frustrated that Jedi woman on Ziost,” Leena recalls aloud.  

 

“Exactly. You only need to block their attacks for long enough for them to tire and grow impatient.   That’s when you strike.  But it’s easier said than done.   Blocking their attacks will be much harder for you than for me.   I can teach you to resist superficial mind tricks and to hide your thoughts.  But when it comes to Force pushes and freezing blaster bolts, we are going to have to work together as a team.”

 

She nods.  “Have you ever fought a Jedi who won?” she looks almost afraid to ask.

 

“Yes, I have lost to a Jedi.  It was on Alderaan years ago.  I was younger then.  I fought more with my sword and my body than with the Force and my mind.  I am a crafty, cold Sith these days.  Not a cocky, angry Sith like I once was.”

 

“There’s nothing cold about you, Gaius,” she says softly.  

 

He makes a face and grumbles, “Don’t tell anyone that.”   

 

Again, he looks over her makeshift armor and slightly bizarre looking training clothes.  Why hasn’t Leena asked Jose for something better than this?   Probably because she didn’t think it was necessary.  Eleena Daru asks for very little in the way of material things.  She’d never demand the latest luxury starship to impress her friends like Lady Cassis has.  Instead, Leena demands his time and his attention.  And most shockingly of all, she demands a return trip to the heart of a war zone.  All because she has listened to his ideas and rallied to his cause.  It makes it very, very hard to tell her no.

 

“How about we get you some real armor,” Malgus decides.  “You need something better to train in.  And if you and the team can master the new skills, then we will both go on this raid.”

 

“Really?”  She perks up.

 

“Yes.  But just this once,” he warns.  “So you can get it out of your system.”

 

This will be fun, he thinks as he basks in her answering smile.  Like back in their initial training days on his space station.   Only this will do more than just give him a workout to upkeep his skills.  It will also train a personal elite strike team.  He could use that if the Sith army ever makes it to Coruscant.  Yes, this is excellent, he decides.  He gets to combine his two favorite things:  Eleena Daru and war.  


	30. Chapter 30

“I have something for you.”  Gaius looks like an excited little boy with a present for mommy as he whips out a big sack from behind his back.  “Open it,” he commands her as he shakes the bag in her face.  “Open it now.”

 

His enthusiasm is infectious.  Eleena jumps to her feet, dutifully reaches into the big black sack, and starts pulling out blue and black fabric. 

 

“Keep going.”

 

Next, she starts pulling out black armor.  A breastplate, shoulder and arm guards, and a backplate too.  All very conspicuously designed for a woman.  A very built woman at that.  Eleena blinks at the molded outline of her physique.  Is she really that big?   She must be.

 

“This will make you combat ready,” Lord Malgus tells her.  “It’s the latest in armor.  Lightweight, thin, and strong.  That armor will easily deflect any stun bolt and it will blunt the force of a direct blaster bolt in half.  Plus, it disperses the plasma energy over the entire armor plate. That means injuries are far less severe. The Mandalorians developed this technology and they know armor,” he assures her.  “Do you like it?  I went for blue and black.  Blue for you, black for the Sith.” 

 

“Wow.”  Eleena is still absorbing the meaning of the gift.  “So . . . you really are letting me do the raid?”  She looks up at Gaius hopefully.

 

“Yes,” he nods.  “Just this once.  But you are going to do it well protected.”

 

And stylishly too, Eleena sees.  “It’s amazing,” she breathes out in all sincerity.  But, there’s a catch: “It’s small.”  She holds up the blue and black colorblocked catsuit and then pokes at the armor attachments.  The armor parts look about right but the suit looks to be very slim.  Like way too slim.  There’s no way Eleena is getting her thighs in the leg parts.  And looking at the arm circumference, she doubts any of the rest of her will fit either.

 

Darth Malgus has no such concerns.  “It stretches.  It’s supposed to be formfitting.  Try it on.  Let me see.  There should be boots in that bag too.”

 

As Eleena awkwardly wiggles into the suit, Malgus keeps up his explanation.  He’s been a warrior his whole life and he’s an expert on this sort of gear.  “The suit is Mandalorian too.  They have a long history of female warriors, so they are sort of the gold standard on battle gear for women.  This fabric is supposed to have lots of built-in support and stretch, but it will still be very resistant to rips and tears.  I can’t promise you how cool it will be, though.  Armor is notoriously hot.”

 

Eleena is busy tugging and jumping as she tries to yank on the catsuit.  “This . . . is . . . tight,” she manages.  “Are you sure this is supposed to be this tight?” It feels more like a battle girdle, Eleena thinks.   If she lunges in this, she just might pop a seam.  “I may have to lie down to zip this up.”

 

Malgus chuckles.  “This is fun to watch,” he decides as he takes in all her twisting and wiggling as she stuffs her breasts inside the suit.  Eleena breathes a sigh of relief as she finishes zipping.  Malgus starts affixing the armor to the suit now.  

 

“You have armor on your torso and arms.  We can add plates down the outer legs too if you want, but you didn’t have that on in practice and leg armor can be clunky.   It definitely impedes movement.  How does that feel?” he asks.  “It needs to be comfortable.  We can change the placement some.  It’s adjustable.” 

 

“This is small,” Eleena observes again.  Well, mostly it feels small across the hips, butt, and thighs.  And that makes sense because those are by far the biggest parts of her.  But the armor is lightweight—much more so than the borrowed Sith trooper pieces she practices in.  And as she does a few test swings of her arms, she is pleased to find that she has a lot of range of movement.  As constricting as the catsuit is, it has a surprising amount of give.  And at least it flattens her stomach nicely.

 

“Put your holster and boots on.  Let me see the full effect,” Gaius urges her and she complies. 

 

“It doesn’t feel so tight now that I have it on,” Eleena thinks out loud as she straightens up after pulling on her new boots.  “Does it look tight?”  Eleena turns slowly around.

 

He lets loose a low whistle. “It looks tight in a good way. You will definitely distract the enemy in that.”

 

“I’m serious,” she complains, fearing she looks ridiculous.   She doesn’t want to appear ridiculous before all the strike team men she has worked for weeks to impress. “Gaius, I’m serious.”

 

“So am I.  Here.  This is a comlink and a tracker.  Put the tracker in your belt.  The com is already set to my frequency.  Now, you’re set.”  He gives her another appraising look and grins.  “Go look in the mirror.”

 

She does.  “Wow.”  Eleena stands there a moment staring at herself from all angles.  The suit is very revealing but the armor up top helps to keep her from feeling totally exposed.  Plus, it seems to balance out her bottom half to keep her from looking quite so pear shaped.  “I look different,” she decides, still unsure what to think.   One thing’s for sure—she’s not going to blend in.  This gear looks nothing like the regular Sith trooper armor.  But maybe that’s the point.  She won’t fool anyone wearing the standard uniform, so why bother?  She won’t disappear even if she tries.

 

“You look hot,” Gaius proclaims.  He has followed her to the mirror.  “Like your body is set to stun.” 

 

That comment earns him a look.  “Only a Sith Lord would think a woman dressed for war looks hot.”   She turns to the side again.  “I look fat,” she moans as she surveys her profile.  She wishes she were more streamlined.  This suit does nothing to diminish her round, protruding rear end and thick, curving thighs.  “But that’s nothing new.  I’ve always been fat.”

 

“It’s in all the right places,” he grins.

 

She bites her lip and frowns.  “I am going to jiggle when I run in this.”

 

“I certainly hope so.” 

 

“Gaius!” she puts a hand on one hip and meets his eyes in the mirror.  If looks could kill, Eleena would have just slain her Sith.

 

He is unrepentant.  “What??  Can I help it if I appreciate your beauty?   I like this look.  You’re like a lethal Venus in that suit.” 

 

“I look fat,” she repeats.  All her daily training sessions don’t seem to show.   Eleena is one of those women who is fleshy no matter how fit she is.  She’s a little more toned lately, but that’s about it.  Fat is her lot in life.

 

“Oh, stop letting those Coruscant fashion models dictate your standards,” he complains.  “Have you ever seen those women in real life?  Gaunt photographs better than it looks in person, trust me.  Hungry, angry looking women are overrated.”

 

And that prompts Eleena to flash a rueful smile.  “I certainly don’t look like I’m starved.”

 

Malgus crosses the room to take her in his arms.  “Leena, you have a sweet face and sweet curves and two blasters slung across your hips.  Feminine and deadly.”  He gives her a big smacking kiss.  “I love it.  Wear it to practice today.  I’ll see you then.”

 

True to his word, Lord Malgus teaches Eleena and the rest of the strike team how to fight a Jedi.  Get them talking, if you can.  Personalize the battle, he instructs.  That will give rise to their scruples.  The Jedi like to think of themselves as the good guys.  They want to keep the moral high ground.  So do what you can to make them conflicted.  And if you can’t make them mad to distract them, then make them empathetic.  They will be much less likely to kill you then.   

 

He teaches Eleena and the others how to blank their minds to hide their thoughts from an easy skim by a Force-user.  Once that skill is perfected, Lord Malgus teaches them how to mislead and confuse a Force-user with deliberately deceptive thoughts.  You think hard about the ambush coming in at any moment to keep the Jedi concerned and looking over his or her shoulder.  In reality, there is no ambush.  But the Jedi probably won’t catch that the first time, especially in a combat situation, Malgus tells them.  They won’t be expecting a non-Force user to know these tactics.  Let them underestimate you and use it to your advantage.

 

Do not let yourself be dominated by a Jedi’s mind, Lord Malgus warns.  They have a trick they like to use that is a heavy suggestion coated in the Force.  It can make you do things you don’t want to do even against your will.  It only works on the weak minded, so don’t get caught off guard.  No one here is docile type, so that shouldn’t be a problem.  Gaius smirks at her as he says these words.

 

But his advice is more than just resistance to the Force.  It’s also very pragmatic.  A sword is an elegant weapon, Lord Malgus teaches, but it is most useful in a duel with another sword wielder.  A lightsaber has its disadvantages when employed against a blaster.  Chiefly the fact that a blaster shot can kill from many meters away but a sword has to be within striking distance of its victim.  So, that is the first rule of fighting a Jedi—keep your distance.  Do not engage unless you have to.  A sword is also a very visible weapon, Malgus points out.  You can spot a Jedi in the field of battle in a way you can’t spot a sniper.   So be the sniper with the advantage of surprise and stealth.

 

Jedi bleed just like the rest of us, Lord Malgus assures them.  They are every bit as mortal as we are.  So don’t let them intimidate you.  Just because they are good with a saber doesn’t mean that they are good at other aspects of warfare.  In fact, the Jedi tend to be less aggressive than their Sith counterparts and they at least purport to only use the Force for defense and not attack.  That’s why they have a tendency to lead from the back of their units and let their troopers do the advance fighting.  Jedi usually fight in pairs, so if you see one Jedi then there’s probably another nearby.  Always be on the alert for both the Jedi Master and the Padawan Learner.

 

The rest of his training is a series of strategies to defeat the most common Republic infantry tactics Lord Malgus observed on Ziost.   The Republic will almost always have greater numbers and better knowledge of the terrain.  If you’re not careful, you can find yourself surrounded, he warns.   Gaius likes to counter those Republic advantages with speed.   ‘Get in and get out’ is his favorite phrase.  Keep focused on the objective and eschew all mission creep.   This isn’t about gaining and holding territory—we’ll let the regular forces on-world do that.  The goal is to be gone by the time they realize we’re here.

 

The Republic places too much reliance on shielding, Lord Malgus judges.  They rely on droids and surveillance technology and keep their staffing at com towers, supply depots, and other strategic assets lean.    That means once you are inside, you will encounter surprisingly little resistance.  But here’s the catch—once they are alerted to your presence, they will call in an air strike.  And since they have so few living guards onsite, they don’t worry much about friendly fire incidents.  Speed is your best defense, he reiterates time and again.

 

He also explains how the Republic infantry is organized in thirteen-man rifle squads.  It’s three teams of four men with an overall leader.  The system is intentional.  Take out the unit leader and each team still has its own leader.  But still, your first target in an ambush is always the lead enemy trooper because he’s the one with authority to call in reinforcements.  Next, take out the guy with the com equipment on his back.  He’s guy with the means to call in reinforcements.  Because once you’re in a bad situation, the goal is to survive and keep it from getting worse, Lord Malgus instructs.  The tougher things get on a mission, the more you must rely on strategy in lieu of force.  ‘Wars are won with brains and not just bombs’ is his favorite quote.  And whatever you do, the Sith Lord warns, don’t panic. 

 

That brings him to another topic:  mission failure.  For some missions, failure is an option.  Unlike us, he explains, the Republic won’t just shoot the prisoners who get left behind in a POW rescue raid.  So, it’s okay to get a few men and make a run for it if things get tough.   Better to succeed at getting some prisoners out and leave some behind, than to die and fail trying to save them all.  But failure on a strategic mission like the upcoming supply depot raid is different.  You get one good chance at those targets because afterwards they will be better defended.  So if the mission is hard the first time you get in, expect it to be near impossible for a second attempt.  That means you need to get it done the first time.

 

The Republic has some new hovertanks that Malgus has seen used very effectively in urban settings on Ziost.  He talks the team through strategies to avoid those traps.  Mostly, he likes to deploy his urban raid teams on speeder bikes so they can scatter and reform like some criminal swoop gang.   Like a flash mob of Sith.  And that’s how Eleena and everyone else on the strike team ends up practicing hot-rodding around on speeder bikes. 

 

The day finally arrives for the raid to take out the Republic supply depot on Ziost.  But first, Darth Malgus takes over the planning from Commander Barker and he changes up everything . . . twice.  You’re a control freak, Eleena accuses with a playful smile.  I’m a Dark Lord, he shrugs.  We’re into control.  And there’s nothing we like to control so much as war.  Eleena soon learns that Darth Malgus takes war extremely seriously and battle is never an impromptu exercise.  This is not a man who likes to wing it.  He plans a raid and then re-plans that same raid.  Then he plans for multiple contingencies if the original plan goes awry.  Darth Malgus is a thinking man’s warrior and a strategist to the core.  But he’s no textbook soldier.  He is experienced enough on the battlefield to know the limitations of planning.   For sometimes even the best laid plans must be tossed aside to adapt to the unexpected.   That’s where all this planning truly comes in handy, he shares with Eleena.  You have all the alternative analyses to fall back on when things get tough and there is no time to think because you are reacting in the moment. 

 

After all the lead up, the supply depot raid proves to be almost easy.  The depot has heavy shielding that will withstand an airstrike but the strike team is able to penetrate the minimal ground defenses and sneak in to plant their charges.  There isn’t a Jedi in sight.  The team easily exits without a single casualty.  “Light it up, Leena.”  Gaius hands her the detonator.  As their transport lifts off, Eleena is the one to trigger the explosives.  The Republic has already scrambled fighters to intercept them but the Sith air defenses are ready to engage.  As a twenty-ship dogfight ensues around them, their transport slips by and quickly jumps to hyperspace. 

 

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.  There are high fives all around as the team celebrates the successful mission.  All are still high on the adrenaline rush of combat.  Even Darth Malgus cracks a half-smile.  He surprises himself and everyone else when he leans against the wall, crosses his arms, and decrees, “That was fun.  Let’s do that again sometime.”

 

After that, strike team raids with Darth Malgus and Eleena become an almost weekly occurrence.  Sometimes the raids are meticulously planned missions important to the war effort.  But a lot of times they are simply harassing the enemy.  They do a lot of prisoner rescues too, something Eleena finds very gratifying.  Darth Malgus comes to be known for his POW raids and it adds to his warrior mystique.  For this Sith Lord is different from the rest.  At least ostensibly, he cares about the cannon fodder common man and that earns him the respect and admiration of his new dreadnought crew.   Lord Malgus is not only a fair man, but if you fight for him, he’s got your back.   That’s such a departure from the usual practice that it engenders the loyalty this renegade Dark Lord wants.    The word of mouth from these weekly Ziost raids also helps to provide the cohesiveness his new fighting forces lack.  Things are finally starting to gel on the _Absolute_.

 

The ten-man special ops strike team plus Darth Malgus and Eleena quickly become a recognizable unit.  These are the A-list fighting men (and one woman) of the ship, and when the rank and file see them head as a group to the hangar bay for a mission there are catcalls of encouragement, high fives, and quite a few salutes.  Plus, the whole hangar bay knows that if you stand at the right vantage point to see all the way up the shuttle ramp, you usually can catch old Darth Malgus playfully smack the Twi’lek woman on the ass as they board the shuttle last. 

 

When the mission ends and the team has returned, Lord Malgus and the blue woman never wait around for the debriefing or to see to the rescued prisoners.  The pair disembarks and heads off together.  She is always conspicuously animated in the aftermath of combat but Lord Malgus is his usual blank faced taciturn self.  But he’s completely into her.  You can see it in the subtle way the Sith Lord stands closer to her than anyone else and in the smirking smile that occasionally flashes across his face.  Blink and you’ll miss it.  But it’s there, time and again.  That leads some in the hangar bay to speculate that after each mission those two head right off to bed. 

 

Once or twice, there is some awkwardness concerning Eleena’s lack of official Sith Army status.  Most of the raids are completely ancillary to the overall war effort.  It’s just Malgus taking things into his own hands off-the-record while no one objects.  But one mission is a coordinated effort with a strike team under another Sith Lord’s command.  The two teams will be hitting separate locations simultaneously but using the same air and ground support on the way in and out.  That requires a little advance planning.  But when the other strike team arrives at the _Absolute_ for a joint launch, their leader looks askance at Eleena’s participation.

 

“Is this alien woman a Malgus thing?” the man complains. “I thought we discussed that we would not be using mercenaries for this raid,” he sniffs.  He turns to Eleena.  “Are you some sort of bounty hunter, Lady?”  

 

The _Absolute_ team leader Lieutenant Commander Barker gives his counterpart a quelling glance.  His tone is stern.  “This is Eleena Daru. She’s one of us.  Deal with it.”

 

“She sure doesn’t look like once of us.”  The other man looks Eleena over carefully now.  His eyes find the impressive firepower slung about her wide hips.  “Is that blaster a Glock?”

 

“They both are,” Eleena answers evenly as she rests a hand on each gun.  “Modified Glocks with silencers and extra plasma charge.”

 

“Very customized,” the man reacts with raised eyebrows.  “You know how to use those?”

 

“Yes,” Eleena answers simply. 

 

The _Absolute_ team leader chimes in again now.  “Eleena is the best shot on the ship.  Would you like her to shoot you to demonstrate?”

 

The man looks around at the hostile expressions of the other _Absolute_ team members and backs down.  “That won't be necessary.”

 

“Let’s focus on the mission then,” Eleena suggests softly.  She’s a team player and she is anxious to take attention off herself.  

 

That’s when Darth Malgus walks up in full battle armor.  “Everything ready to go, Barker?”

 

The other team leader’s eyes are bulging out of his head as he snaps to attention and gulps, “My lord.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” the _Absolute_ ’s team leader adds with an undisguised smirk.  “I forgot to mention that he’s coming too.”

 

“Oooooh,” the other guy stammers.  “Really??  I mean, of course.”

 

Now it’s Lord Malgus’ turn to smirk.  “Commander, if you’re done with the introductions, let’s go blow up this com tower.”

 

The raids are successful and, for the most part, surprisingly safe.   There are casualties from blaster fire, but no serious injuries and no deaths.  Eleena herself remains unhurt but she gets a few close calls that are glancing blows off her armor.  You’re just breaking that armor in, her team leader tells her encouragingly.   Lord Malgus is not so positive.  If you get a real hit, the fun is over, he tells her.  Then he starts grumbling about not letting her go on any more raids.  It’s too dangerous and she’s not a soldier, she’s an accountant.  She should be back on the ship safe and sound.  She’s already taking a big risk just by being with him.  Why does she need to put herself in even more danger?  But Eleena always cajoles him to relent in the end.  She wants to do her part for the war effort like everyone else, she argues.  And that attitude always impresses her warrior Sith Lord. 

 

They don’t see a Jedi on that first raid, but they do see plenty of Jedi after that, especially on the prison rescues.   As instructed, the team leaves the Light Side knights to Lord Malgus to handle personally.  He likes to disable his foe and then beckon Eleena over for the coup de gras.  Fry ‘em, Gaius orders, and that’s her cue to take the killing shot.  Except . . . when she doesn't.  Eleena hesitates one day as she stares down at an injured human teenage girl who can’t be more than fifteen.  Yes, she’s a Padawan Learner, but she seems far too young to be at war. 

 

“But she’s a child,” Eleena balks. 

 

“She’s a Jedi who would kill you if she had the chance.”

 

“I know,” Eleena murmurs out the awful truth of the matter.  For this is what war comes to:  slaughter of innocents and not-so innocents alike.   And often, it is hard to tell one from the other. 

 

“Care to guess how many children the Republic has killed here on Ziost?” Malgus snaps.  “They show no mercy to our young.”

 

Yes, she knows.  The civilian casualties have been staggering so far and they are still mounting.  So Eleena swallows hard and takes careful aim to make certain the shot will be an instant execution.  She does not want this Jedi child to suffer further. 

 

“Come on,” Lord Malgus growls.  He’s impatient to get back to the ship.  “We’re wasting time.  Let’s go.”

 

But still . . . she hesitates.

 

“I’m s-sorry,” Eleena says as she lowers her weapon and hangs her head.  “I can’t do t-this.”

 

Gaius doesn’t miss a beat.  He hollers over to the team leader, “Barker, this kill is yours.”   The Lieutenant Commander marches over to take the shot immediately.  Then, they all head back to the ship with the freed captives.

 

When later in private, Eleena broaches the topic, Gaius is surprisingly nonplussed about the incident.  “You’re not a professional soldier,” he excuses the matter.   But after that, others do the killing for the young Jedi.

 

Eleena quickly sees that the strike team is most at risk when getting on and off Ziost.  The Sith have upper atmosphere air superiority for the most part, but the Republic mostly controls things on and near the ground.  That means it’s always a bit of a fight getting on and off the surface.  It makes learning to fly high on Eleena’s list of priorities for new skills.  Lord Malgus agrees and sends her to a flight instructor for time in a simulator.  You’re not an accountant anymore, he tells her.  Eleena smiles and agrees.  This is a long way from putting credits on the right and debits on the left on the Barrabas warehouse ledgers.

 

For the crew, this is all so . . . unprecedented.  Darth Malgus is clearly bored, everyone decides.  His ship is relegated to the outermost perimeter of the blockade and he’s been ordered back from the frontlines to cool his heels as a strategist while he waits for the Ziost counteroffensive to fail.  The Sith Lord is smug about it, all can tell.  For everyone knows he opposed retaking Ziost in the first place.  So now, Malgus is hanging out with his alien girlfriend and popping down to Ziost now and then just to keep things interesting.  Another Dark Lord in his position would be hosting his peers for the usual politicking and bitch sessions that are endemic to his competitive kind.  There is a lot of collective armchair quarterbacking amid the Sith when it comes to war.  But not from Darth Malgus.  He opts out of that sort of thing.  As usual, this eccentric Dark Lord pleases himself.

 

Eleena Daru too is a mystery that keeps unfolding.  She tells people that she’s an accountant, but many of the crew believe she must be a mercenary by trade.  Others contend that she was a deeply embedded Sith spy and that explains her Republic accent and the rumors of her slave collar scar.  For what better ruse as a spy than as a servant?  People always speak indiscreetly before the help.  One thing is for sure—this Twi’lek woman knows her stuff.  The war stories from the weekly raids get told and retold, and they always feature Eleena Daru’s deadly aim.  Plus, supposedly she did kill a Jedi once.

 

When she’s not dressed for combat, the crew gets used to seeing Eleena sweeping down the hallways of the dreadnought dressed as a queen.  Usually she has those two vicious hounds trailing in her wake.  If she doesn’t have the dogs, then she is probably heading to the sickbay where she visits recovering soldiers transferred from the front and rescued POWs.   Her own experience with the strike team and in Republic interrogation make Eleena very sympathetic to their plight.  More than one man awakes to find the beautiful Twi’lek woman at his bedside holding his hand.  Eleena Daru interacts with all ranks with her same unassuming manner.  She is soft spoken with a sweet and easy smile that lights up her face.  It melts more than one suspicious heart.   Yes, she’s an alien.  But she’s not like other aliens, most decide.

 

And that is the contradiction of the mysterious Twi’lek refugee woman.  One day she is spotted looking feminine and pretty in her loosely draped goddess dresses that highlight her ample curves.   But the next day, she’s armored up and off to war at her Sith Lord’s side.  She’s got a lethal looking pistol strapped to each hip and a vibroblade tucked in her right boot.  See that blue jewel on the front of her headband?  Some say it was taken from a dead Jedi’s sword.  Don’t be fooled by the whole princess routine, this woman could easily snap your neck with a well-placed kick.  She’s that good.  The strike team members all universally agree—Eleena Daru has earned her place among them.  And that’s no surprise because supposedly she was trained by the very best—Darth Malgus himself.

 

And so even though she is an alien amid the highly prejudiced Sith and though she has no rank in the _Absolute_ ’s many tiered chain of command, Eleena quickly earns respect.  And more importantly, she is well liked.  Some of that goodwill transfers to Darth Malgus by default.  Because the woman a man chooses says something about him.  Malgus’ Twi’lek lover might be unusual but it all sort of fits.  Malgus is known to thumb his nose at convention and he’s far more open to non-humans than other Sith.  Plus, he’s got those dogs and his strange garden so he’s not the usual run of the mill Dark Lord.  No one onboard the _Absolute_ has any doubt that their commander is getting some tailhead action regularly.  Though they are habitually discrete in public, the whole ship knows that Eleena Daru lives in the Sith Master’s quarters.  But though it is a scandal at first for some, most everyone soon shrugs it off.  That’s just Malgus being Malgus.   And really, he’s not so bad.   He sort of grows on you.

 


	31. Chapter 31

“You’re up early,” Eleena remarks as she wanders into Gaius’ private office adjacent to their living room.  She stifles a yawn as she sets down a cup of strong black caf next to the datapad he’s scowling at.  This is his usual morning routine.   Darth Malgus wakes early to peruse the newsfeeds, to read the daily war dispatches, and to get a head start on work.  He tends to get drawn into crisis after crisis during the day, so he sets aside this time to work uninterrupted. 

 

Eleena usually wanders in with caf and breakfast when the droid arrives with their morning order.   Then she sits and eats in silence as the Sith Lord begins dictating advance orders for the day.  He is going back to the Sith navy flagship today for a meeting, so there is plenty to do before he departs.  Eleena listens in as he gives a terse list of instructions to Captain Ledbetter.  When he’s done, she watches as he stands, kicks savagely at his chair, and crosses the room to stare out the window into deep space. 

 

Darth Malgus is in a very bad mood.

 

This is more than just the usual angst that is brought on by the anticipation of spending time around his rivals.  Something is wrong, Eleena judges.  “It’s going to be a bad day, isn’t it?”  

 

His answer is vehement.  “Angral is surrounded by fools!   He knows better than to listen to them!”  

 

Yes, it’s like she suspected.  The war for Ziost is giving everyone fits again.  After the initial rebound from Darth Malgus’ temporary leadership, the siege quickly stalled.  In the months since then, Ziost has become a stalemate, and that is a source of frustration to everyone.  But especially to Lord Malgus who warned of this precise risk.  “We are bogged down, like I told them to expect,” he complains as he turns around.  His handsome face is the picture of petulance.  “But once you make the decision to do this sort of urban ground war, you have to see it through.  Even if it takes years.”

 

“Lord Angral wants to pull out?” she guesses.

 

“Worse.   He’s talking about opening peace talks.  He plans to bring it up at the strategy meeting today.  I got a preview from him in a private message this morning.”

 

“Surrender?”  Eleena blinks and puts down her fork.  His outrage makes sense now.  She’s feeling indignant too suddenly.  “They want to surrender Ziost to the Republic??”

 

“No.  Those fools want to negotiate to end the whole war.”  Gaius lets this bombshell reveal sink in before he rages, “We waited three hundred years for this chance!  And now a group of petty losers want to quit when it gets hard!”

 

“Would the Emperor even agree to that?” she wonders aloud, slightly aghast.

 

“Who knows?  Vitiate might not care if we lay down arms so long as he keeps control,” Lord Malgus grouses.  “His leadership is lousy.  He’s holed up in his stronghold drifting in the Force while his surrogates bicker and fight amongst themselves.   He needs to come down from his ivory tower and do something for once!”  Gaius warms to his theme now.  This is a preview of what he will say at today’s meeting, she suspects.  “We waited three hundred years to reclaim our rightful place and now we have a setback and people want to give up??  Now is the time to rethink and regroup.  To refocus our efforts and recommit to our cause--”

 

“Why would they do such a thing?” Eleena is still confused.

 

“Fear,” he answers bluntly.  “They fear that Ziost is lost and it will become a Republic foothold to launch attacks deeper into the Empire.  Angral and others are worried that our major systems could fall like dominos after that.  And then,” he sighs, “we will be defeated.  So rather than lose, they want to sue for peace.”

 

“Is that possible?  Could we really be defeated?” Eleena has often heard Darth Malgus’ blunt, pessimistic assessment of the war, but he’s never phrased it as bleakly as that.

 

It obviously pains Gaius to admit it, but he agrees, “Yes, it’s possible.  But I don’t think it’s probable.  And I’m certainly not ready to give up.”  He exhales loudly and scowls as he keeps venting.  “Peace is a lie!   Every Sith Lord knows that!  There is no peace deal with the Republic that will ever last.  We must defeat them to bring order to the galaxy.”

 

Eleena wholeheartedly agrees.  “Put that in your journal, Gaius.  Put it all down so that history will not count you as complicit with these cowards.”

 

His eyes find hers and he nods.  The heat of his anger is spent.  And maybe it’s good for him to get some of this frustration out in advance of what will surely be a very contentious meeting.  “Come,” she beckons him to his breakfast.  “Eat while I get your things together.   When are you leaving?”

 

“Oh-six-hundred.”

 

She checks the time.  That’s less than an hour from now.  “Then eat up,” she advises as she herself stands.  “I’ll go pack your bag.  Full armor?”

 

“Yes.  And both swords.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Half an hour later, Lord Malgus has eaten and he is sporting his battle armor.  He dresses to meet his peers like he dresses to meet the enemy.  And maybe, Eleena thinks, these meetings sometimes feel equally as bitter. His duffel bag waiting by the door is full to bursting.  I could be back tomorrow or in a week.  I don’t know, Gaius had admitted.  So, Eleena had packed for several days. 

 

Now, the only thing left is goodbye.  Gaius starts with his usual parting orders.  “Keep a weapon on you at all times.  Ask Ledbetter or Jose for anything you need.  And no—”

 

“Raids,” she finishes for him.  “No raids with the team until you get back.”

 

“I mean it,” he rumbles.  “I don’t care what Barker and the others get up to while I’m gone.  I forbid you to participate.  Train as much as you want here on the ship, but you may not go to Ziost, understand?”

 

“Yes, my lord,” she dutifully replies.  “Go give them Hell,” she encourages with a smile.  “Set them straight on this peace business.”

 

“I intend to,” Lord Malgus nods grimly. 

 

Eleena snuggles up now for a quick hug, feeling the sharp pokes and hard bulk of his armor.  “I miss you already,” she gushes.  It’s the truth.

 

That comment provokes his first and only smile of the day.  “Meet me in the hangar bay when I get back.”  Then, with a sharp kiss and a quick squeeze, Darth Malgus is off down the hall as Eleena calls out the ancient blessing ‘May the Force be with you’ after him.

 

It’s later that same morning when the young lieutenant who Captain Ledbetter used to send to check on her during those first days on the _Absolute_ presents himself.  The Lieutenant finds her in the arboretum playing with the dogs.

 

“Ms. Daru, the Captain asked me to inform you that Lord Malgus is returning.  We anticipate his imminent arrival.”

 

“So soon?”   Usually, these sorts of meetings are an all-day affair.  “This is unusual.”

 

“The Captain says Lord Malgus is returning now and other visitors are expected to follow.   I don’t know the details,” the junior staff officer admits.  “I believe it is a bit impromptu.  I’m supposed to show everyone where to go when they arrive.”

 

Things must have gone badly on the _Oppressor_ , Eleena surmises from the man’s stressed expression.   “Am I summoned to the hangar bay?” she asks.

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Alright, then.”  Eleena calls to the dogs to follow her.  “Lead the way.”

 

A command shuttle has just landed when Eleena and her Lieutenant escort walk up.  “Just in time,” the antsy officer says under his breath.  He snaps to rigid military attention while Eleena smooths her long skirt and the dogs take their usual places at her side.  Rags on the left, Simmy on the right.  It’s not much of an honor guard—the most junior officer on the Captain’s personal staff plus two dogs and Eleena—but Darth Malgus prefers to dispense with a lot of formalities.  He only displays the trappings of power and protocol to his fellow brethren.  Here at home on his personal ship, he keeps things casual.  It’s just like Eleena recalls from his space station. 

 

She waits as the shuttle ramp extends and the passengers disembark.  Immediately, Eleena sees that something is amiss.  The Lieutenant got it wrong.

 

“That’s not Malgus,” he observes, sounding slightly panicked.

 

She is alarmed as well.  “Oh, no.  Not him.”  Eleena recognizes one of the men walking down the shuttle ramp. 

 

“That’s Darth Adraas, right?”

 

“Yes,” Eleena groans.  This is not good.  Her first instinct is to flee from this nasty man, but she stands her ground instead.  “I think that old guy with him is Azamin,” she whispers, “but I’m not sure.”

 

“You mean the super old guy on the Council?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Wow.” The young Lieutenant is impressed at this celebrity sighting.

 

For her part, Eleena is alarmed.  She has no wish to confront Lord Malgus’ enemies on her own.  He has always been very explicit that she is never to interact with another Dark Lord.  But here she is receiving two of them accidentally.  Suddenly, she is as nervous as the young officer at her side.  Eleena endeavors to remain outwardly calm.  She will just have to brazen through this awkward greeting and hope for the best.

 

It seems like it takes ages for the two Sith Lords to disembark.  They are moving at the mincing pace of the cloaked and hunched elder Azamin who makes his way forward leaning heavily on a cane.  It gives Eleena plenty of time to size up the new arrivals as she frantically searches for a legitimate explanation for why she is here. 

 

Darth Azamin she knows to be a preeminent Dark Lord of the Sith, a longtime member of the Dark Council, a noted authority on military affairs, and a crony of Emperor Vitiate himself.  He has an impressive list of accomplishments that seem completely at odds with his feeble appearance.  But she remembers Gaius once admonishing her to never judge a Sith Lord by his size.  You can be a small man but be a giant in the Force and wield enormous political power.  And old Darth Azamin, Eleena suspects, is all that and more. 

 

Beside him Darth Adraas too is somewhat lackluster in his first impression.  For putting aside his richly embroidered black cloak and leather tunic, Lord Adraas appears surprisingly average looking.  Not short, not tall.  Not handsome, not ugly.  He’s not much of anything, actually.  And that mundane, forgettable presentation makes him seem a strange arch foe to the very distinctive Darth Malgus.   But sure enough, once Lord Adraas finally stands before her, he does not disappoint.  He is every bit as nasty as Eleena remembers from the time he gloated over the loss of Gaius’ ship and pulled a sword.

 

“Well, well, well . . . what have we here?” Lord Malgus’ longtime enemy inspects her.

 

“My lords,” the nervous Lieutenant begins, “Captain Ledbetter awaits you in the conference room.  Please follow me.”

 

Darth Adraas ignores this request.  His attention is all for her.  “Who are you?” he demands. Lord Adraas is about average height for a man, and that means he looks tall Eleena squarely in the eye.  “I keep seeing you with Malgus.” 

 

Lord Adraas’ aggressive tone and stance speak volumes, and even the dogs perceive the undercurrent of danger.  At her side, Simmy now lowers his head and starts to growl.  Eleena reaches down to stroke his head to calm him down.

 

When Eleena is momentarily distracted by the dogs and doesn’t immediately answer, Lord Adraas turns to her escort.  “Who is she?” he demands of the quaking Lieutenant. 

 

The younger man gives a very unconvincing and ill-advised answer.  He’s trying to be discreet.  “No one, Sir.  A civilian.  Now, if you will follow me . . . ”

 

Lord Adraas responds by lighting his sword.  “Who is she?” he snarls as he brandishes the weapon beneath the unfortunate Lieutenant’s nose.  Darth Adraas has a soft, high tenor voice, but it doesn’t make him the least bit effete.  If anything, it makes him extra menacing.  Eleena has no doubts that this man is as ruthless as he purports to be.

 

“She’s . . . ah . . . that is . . . she is Lord Malgus’ accountant . . . friend . . .” the young officer stammers out artlessly.  It’s a version of the truth at least. 

 

Simmy is growling now and Rags looks ready to lunge.  They are poised to attack in order to defend her, and likely get themselves killed in the process.

 

Alarmed, Eleena inserts herself.  She tries to speak respectfully but calmly to diffuse the situation.  “Please put away your weapon.  There is no need for violence.   And I can speak for myself,” she shoots the hapless Lieutenant a quelling look.

 

“Yes, put the sword away,” the stooped elder Darth Azamin intervenes, “and try to be a better guest, Adraas.”  The ancient Sith Lord has a deep, croaking voice that belies his small frame but completely fits his gravitas.

 

Chastised only slightly, Lord Adraas complies.  But he doesn’t give up.  He snaps at his companion, “Do you know who she is?  That whole farce of an intel raid right after the Zoist invasion was merely a pretext to rescue her.” 

 

“Indeed?”  If the cloaked old man is supposed to be shocked and offended by this revelation, he is not.

 

But still, Darth Adraas doggedly accuses, “Malgus is weak for this alien woman.  Everyone knows that.  Even the Republic apparently, since they caught her and interrogated her.”

 

“Did they now?”  Finally, the older man’s voice betrays some interest.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I did not talk.  I did not betray the Empire,” Eleena contends in a fervent, hushed tone.   She does not bother denying her relationship with Lord Malgus.  She knows better than to lie to a Force-user.

 

“Such a pathetic love scene that must have been!” Lord Adraas sneers out his sarcasm.  “Gruff old Malgus goes behind enemy lines to rescue his tortured sex slave.  How convenient that he managed to rescue a few useful prisoners while he was at it.”  The man’s voice grows uglier still.  “Malgus has to buy his companionship.  No woman of birth and position will have him—”

 

“My lord, you will await me in the conference room,” Darth Azamin interrupts mildly.    

 

But Darth Adraas is just getting started.  “Serevin is selling his poor daughter for a king’s ransom, I hear.   My wife says she’s plenty reluctant and telling everyone how she feels.”

 

“My lord, you may proceed ahead,” the hunched Sith is none too subtle again even if his tone is casual.

 

It doesn’t work.  Lord Adraas keeps spitting out his vitriol.  “How fitting that Malgus cavorts with the likes of you!  That zoo-keeper’s brat is just one step removed from a servant himself!”  Darth Adraas gestures with his right hand as he says this and Ragnos seizes the opportunity.  The dog lunges with chomping teeth to take a bite.  Only Lord Adraas’ Force-attuned reflexes save his hand.  He’s about to light his sword again when Lord Azamin forestalls him and neutralizes the threat of the dogs by freezing them in the Force.

 

The annoyed ranking Sith Lord now bluntly commands, “Adraas, go bother someone else.  Leave her to me.”

 

But still, Darth Adraas does not appear inclined to back down.  “My family—“

 

“Adraas!” The stooped Lord Azamin does not raise his voice, but somehow it feels like he is shouting.  For such is this man’s grave dignity.  “That matter was resolved years ago.  There was never any lasting taint and you know it.”  Darth Azamin points a skeletal finger at his colleague in reproof.  “If there is still talk now and then, it is because you keep it going.   Like a fool!” the old veteran hisses. 

 

Lord Adraas shoots Eleena a cold look but he reluctantly obeys his superior.  He stalks off in a huff with the terrified looking Lieutenant bobbing alongside.

 

That leaves Eleena alone with the intimidating Darth Azamin.

 

The old man now releases the hounds frozen in the Force.  He beckons them over and patiently lets them smell his gnarled hands.  Eleena watches with concern, expecting another snap from Ragnos at any moment.  But the dogs surprise her.  They quickly calm down and sit docilely at the feet of the old Sith Master.  “That’s better,” he approves.

 

Fascinated, Eleena watches as Darth Azamin begins to stroke Simmy’s head.  “They like you.”  She can’t keep the note of surprise from her voice.  The dogs are protective and territorial by nature, and not usually this friendly to strangers.  “Do they know you?” she asks.  She’s intrigued. 

 

“We are new acquaintances today.”  The old man turns to flash Eleena a toothy smile beneath his low hanging hood.  “Just like you and I are.”

 

“It’s strange,” Eleena remarks softly, speaking her thoughts aloud.  “It’s almost like they recognize your scent.”

 

“I’m sure they do.   That,” the Dark Lord confides to Rags who he patting, “is the smell of power.  I have it and Lord Malgus has it.”   He glances Leena’s way.  “Perhaps in your own way, you have it too.”

 

Eleena very much doubts that.

 

The elder Sith straightens up to peer up at her now.  It gives Eleena a peek beneath the black cloak that otherwise obscures his face.  This man is shrunken and wizened, with features distorted both by time and by decades of powerful Dark Force.  Yet strangely enough, his deep-set yellow eyes appear almost kind.  “Tell me your name, woman,” he orders quietly.

 

“Eleena Daru, my lord.”

 

“So . . . you are his lover?”

 

There is no point in denying it.  The entire ship already knows.  And lying to a Sith Lord would seem a dangerous risk.  So, Eleena speaks the truth and tries to keep the shame from her voice. “Yes, my lord.”

 

The man grunts at this. “Who are you really?”

 

She keeps telling the truth.  “I am runaway slave from the Republic.   I worked as a clerk at a shipping company.”

 

“How prosaic.  Tell me, how did you meet Lord Malgus?”  The ancient Sith seems very interested.

 

“I tried to poison him.  My old master was using me.  I did not know of the plot,” she hastens to add.  “But I tried to stop it.”

 

“Who was your slave master?”

 

“Cecil Barrabas of Barrabas Logistics.”

 

“The Mid Rim shipping magnate?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The Dark Lord digests this news.  “Poison.  That was cowardly of the Republic.  Well, no wonder you made an impression,” he decides with a chuckle.  “Although, it’s not hard to see how you might catch a man’s eye.”  He appraises Eleena with feral yellow eyes that rake over her very ripe figure and linger on her bosom that is above eye level to this little man.  His face splits with a sly grin.  “Malgus dresses his alien Republic slave like a queen and lets her parade around his ship.  That's cheeky of him.  But then again, Malgus is always thumbing his nose at the rest of us.  Tell me,” the old Sith probes, “does he treat you like a queen as well?”

 

Eleena is perplexed by this question.  But again, she answers with the truth.  “Yes, my lord.  He does.”

 

“So it would seem, if you are loyal enough to be tortured on his behalf.”

 

Eleena bites at her lip.  She doesn’t like to be reminded of her interrogation on Ziost.  “I am loyal to a Master who treats me well,” she responds with demure, downcast eyes and a posture of subservience long ingrained.

 

Darth Azamin seems to find this amusing.  “Oh, this is far more than loyalty, I suspect.  The slave queen and the upstart Sith Lord,” he muses.   “Such a matched pair you are.  Both so wretched and so angry.  Yes . . . I see it.  I see how deeply it runs.  You have much fear in you, my dear.  Such a pity you don’t have the Force.”

 

Eleena just continues looking down.  She doesn’t know what to say to this. 

 

Darth Azamin keeps peering at her, as if he’s seeing right through her.  “You're not his slave anymore, are you?”   He says this softly, but like an accusation. 

 

Eleena is way out of her league with this intimidating man.  She stammers, “No, my lord.  I am a full citizen of the Empire.  Lord Malgus set me free.”

 

“You mistake my meaning, my dear,” Darth Azamin corrects.  He’s observing her closely still.  “Your roles have reversed. He is the slave for you now.”

 

Eleena swallows hard at this observation, knowing how Gaius would bristle at this remark.   He will be livid once he learns of this conversation, she knows.  Her only goal is to get out of it unscathed, if possible.

 

The ancient Sith wags a skeletal finger at her now as he warns, “Take care, Eleena Daru.   Serevin’s daughter is formidable in the way only a Sith woman can be.   She may be—shall we say—less than enthused to discover that her affianced husband’s affections are engaged with an alien slave.  Be careful that your . . . loyalty . . . not lead you into danger.”

 

Lady Cassis already knows about her and Gaius.  But Darth Serevin’s daughter is the least of her worries, according to Lord Malgus.  His enemies are the real risk and, for all she knows, they might include this man.  Still, Eleena lifts her chin.  “I know the risks.”

 

“Uhmmm,” Lord Azamin assesses her thoughtfully. “Yes, I see that you do.  I wonder, does he?”   That seems to be a rhetorical question, so Eleena keeps her silence. 

 

“Show me your left hand, my dear,” Darth Azamin invites as he proffers his own. 

 

Confused by this request, Eleena stretches out her arm tentatively.  The Sith Lord accepts it gently and turns it over.  She is befuddled as he inspects her open palm.  She has no idea what he is looking for.

 

Darth Azamin does not explain.  He just grunts and remarks, “It’s just as well.” 

 

Behind them, Eleena now hears the sound of a starship landing.  “Ah, here comes Lord Malgus,” the wizened old man practically purrs.  Eleena gets the uncomfortable sense that Darth Azamin is enjoying himself immensely at her expense and now he can’t wait to play the same game with Lord Malgus. 

 

Still, she follows his eyes over to the newly landed shuttle.  Down the ramp march Gaius and yet another Dark Lord.  Eleena recognizes Darth Angral from his cybernetic eye, patrician bearing, and distinctive red on black armor.  This is the commander of the Sith navy who answers only to the Dark Council and to the Emperor himself.  Beside him, the considerably taller and heavier Lord Malgus is still sporting his full battle armor and cape, looking every inch the powerful, commanding Sith Lord.  It’s a look designed to intimidate and it succeeds for all but Eleena.   She sees past the cold, scary veneer to the man beneath.

 

The dogs catch the scent of their master and run for him, as usual.  And that’s when Gaius looks up to lock eyes with her. 

 

Old Darth Azamin catches the look exchanged between them.   He looks mischievous as he observes, “I see Angral is lecturing Malgus, as usual.”

 

It’s true.  As the two newcomers step forward, the red armored naval commander drawls dismissively, “You are overreacting.  The Sith have been around and the Sith will continue.  Infighting and rivalry have been around and will continue.  This is nothing new.  Deal with it.  Stop whining.”

 

Gaius doesn’t respond.  He’s watching her instead.  Eleena sees his eyes register her presence with clear displeasure.  But he says nothing. 

 

Ancient Darth Azamin speaks first as he resumes leisurely petting the dogs.  “My Lords, Adraas and I were met by a charming welcoming committee.”  Eleena sees Malgus glower at this reference to her, but again he says nothing.  “Ms. Daru here comes complete with two fierce mascots. This one,” Lord Azamin gestures to Ragnos whose ears he is scratching, “nearly bit Lord Adraas’ hand off.”

 

“It’s a pity he did not succeed,” Malgus smirks.  “Good dog.”   Then, he turns to her.  “Be off!” Gaius waves her away rudely.   His tone is harsh and contemptuous.  “This is war.  I want no distractions.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”   Eleena lowers her chin and makes to withdraw.   She knows what Gaius is doing.   She knows why he is doing it.  So, she refuses to feel hurt.  The public man who treats her brusquely is not the private man who snuck behind enemy lines to rescue her.  

 

Eleena now grabs for both dogs’ collars.  Simmy and Rags are not going to want to leave with their Master still in attendance. 

 

“Where is Adraas?” Malgus demands looking around, pointedly ignoring her. 

 

“I like your pets,” Lord Azamin chuckles as he watches her coax away the hounds who are not used to this indifferent treatment.  “All three of them.”

 

Her ears burning and her face flushed, Eleena has the dogs firmly in hand as she tugs them away.  She can’t wait to leave this toxic trio of Dark Lords.  She can still feel Darth Azamin’s probing eyes on her.  The third man, Darth Angral, seems preoccupied and impatient with the whole scene.

 

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Gaius complains loudly.  “Stupid woman,” he calls after her.  “Get going.”  Then he turns back to the other Sith Lords to demand again, “Where is Adraas?”

 

“Your pet’s handler took him to some conference room.  He’s either there or off sabotaging the hyperdrive,” Lord Azamin observes with a chuckle.  “One wonders why you even let him aboard your ship, Malgus.”

 

“Malgus and Adraas will be on their best behavior for the good of the Empire,” Lord Angral announces in the tone of an exasperated parent.  He shoots a not-so-subtle glare at his host.  “Remember that.”

 

“Let’s get back to work,” Lord Malgus gripes. 

 

Gaius doesn’t so much as spare her a glance as he leaves.  But that is as she expects.  This is just an act, Eleena tells herself, as she swallows the lump in her throat.   This is just an act like when he refused her medical care when they returned from Ziost.  He’s keeping up appearances to protect them both.  These small cruelties are in fact kindness in disguise.

 

Eleena takes the dogs back to the indoor garden, thinking that a mindless game of fetch will give her time alone to regroup.  She is feeling very unsettled after the scene in the hangar bay.  Eleena had not gone looking for that situation, but there had been no easy way to extricate herself.  At least that nasty Darth Adraas had been shooed away.  Eleena doesn’t know what to make of cryptic old Darth Azamin.  Mostly, beneath his courtly veneer Azamin had seemed to be laughing at her.  Or maybe he was laughing at Lord Malgus?   She isn’t sure.

 

Eleena bends to pick up a ball laying on the grass.  She gives it a toss. But neither Rags nor Simmy goes racing after it like she expects.  Instead, the hounds stay put, face the door they just entered, and start to growl again. 

 

And that’s when Eleena whirls to find Darth Adraas walking in.

 

Oh no, she thinks.  It’s him again.  And this time, she’s on her own.

 

Eleena is wary.  Very, very wary as the Sith Lord approaches fast.  Does she dare make a run for it?   That’s preferable to reaching for the pistol strapped to her leg.   That move will escalate things fast.  And then, she will assuredly be the loser. 

 

Her threatened reaction must show because Lord Adraas looks smugly pleased.  “You and I have a common interest, Eleena Daru,” he begins.

 

So, he knows her name after all.  Then what was all that badgering about when he arrived?   Just posturing?   Eleena knows that crafty Sith Lords raise deception to an art form.  What’s really going on, she wonders.  Nothing with these men is as it initially seems, she has learned.

 

“We should be allies,” Lord Adraas informs her in a voice of command.  

 

Eleena takes a step back and shakes her head in response. “I very much doubt that.”

 

“My lord,” he corrects her.  “I very much doubt that, my lord,” he repeats her words to emphasize the honorific.  “When you speak to me, you will address me properly.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Eleena instantly complies.  She’s not looking for a fight.  Her strategy will be flight instead. 

 

“Much better.   Now then, let us discuss Malgus’ upcoming marriage.   Yes, I sense this is not your favorite topic.  No surprise there.”

 

Eleena remains silent, wondering where this is going.  Her eyes keep darting towards the doors behind Darth Adraas.  She plans to take the first opportunity to leave. 

 

“Serevin will bankrupt Malgus with the marriage settlement.  He’s outright selling his daughter and everyone knows it.” 

 

Yes, she remembers the initial sum she was told was for a real estate investment.  But Eleena knows better than to embroil herself in the gossip of the Sith ruling class.  “It is no concern of mine, my lord.  Now, if you will excuse me—“ Eleena makes an attempt to flee. 

 

“You are not dismissed.”   Lord Adraas steps forward into her path.  It’s a subtle but effective threat of force. 

 

Eleena stops.  Just minutes ago, she had seen this man draw his sword on that poor Lieutenant.  Darth Adraas has a hair trigger for deadly force.

 

“What will happen to you when Lady Malgus arrives on the scene?   Care to wager how long before you are cast aside?”  Lord Adraas looks her over, his eyes lingering on her kyber crystal headband.  “That means no more fancy dresses.  No more jewelry.  No more life of playing queen of this ship.”

 

Eleena says nothing.   She does not want to be drawn into a conversation.

 

But Adraas is undeterred.  “Lady Cassis is a sharp one.  She will discover your existence quickly, I imagine.  Although, I could just tell her to make it easy.”

 

Does he think he can hold that threat over her head?   Eleena disabuses him of the notion fast.  “She already knows.”

 

“Does she now?” Haughty Lord Adraas is nonplussed.  “Then she must be considering her options for how to be rid of you.”

 

This is true, Eleena thinks, as she recalls what Jose Escriva had told her about his interview with Lady Cassis.  Does she still think Eleena is on Ziost?   Or does she know that Malgus rescued her?  Well, either way, it doesn’t matter.

 

“You assume wrongly, my lord,” Eleena strives to sound respectful as she begs to differ.  “Lady Cassis could care less.  You said it yourself.  She cares nothing for Lord Malgus. The marriage is an alliance, not a love match.”

 

“The Sith do not marry for love,” Adraas scoffs at the very notion.  “Even so, no self-respecting wife wants her husband to prefer an alien slave to herself.   Sith ladies are not known for their tolerance.  And like all women, they have their pride.”

 

“Lord Malgus will handle things.”  Eleena is still trying to extricate herself from the situation.  She made a critical error by responding to this man in the first place, she fears.  For now, she has gotten herself drawn into a discussion.

 

“He’s buying a wife so he can buy her family’s influence.  He will have to keep Lady Malgus happy to get the benefit of his bargain.  That’s how these things work.  And that’s why you will soon be dumped by Malgus.  Unless of course,” Darth Adraas purrs, “that won’t be an issue because the marriage never occurs.”

 

“I should be going—“

 

“You are not dismissed.”   Again, Lord Adraas will not let her pass.  “If you and I work together, I’m sure we can find a way to thwart this wedding.” 

 

Eleena looks down and appears her most subservient.  She’ll play the role of dutiful slave if it will keep her alive.  “I have been told that Lord Malgus’ marriage is none of my concern.”

 

Adraas reaches for her wrist now and yanks her close.   Eleena’s eyes go wide at this abrupt physical aggression.  “My lord,” he hisses.  “You will address me as ‘my lord.’”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Eleena gulps.

 

Her every sense is on alert now.  Her adrenaline is pumping fast.  She’s waiting to dodge the hit that she’s sure is coming next.  Eleena is well trained in hand to hand combat.  She could easily duck out of Darth Adraas’ clasp.  But like reaching for her hidden blaster, that will provoke a fight.  This man is a Sith Lord with the Force.  There is no way she can outrun, out fight, or out shoot him on her own.  That knowledge is a very effective deterrent.  So Eleena takes a page out of her slavery days and resolves to keep her cool and let this situation play out.  She will pick her battles, as always.   She long ago became accustomed to groveling and humiliation. 

 

“You filthy alien whore,” Adraas hisses as he yanks her closer and shakes her hard.  “Do you think you get to turn me down?  I could kill you now.  I should kill you.   But you’re far more useful to me alive.”

 

Yes, she understands.  This isn’t about her at all.  The strategic play here is to prevent the upcoming marriage that will bolster his rival’s political power.   Eleena is just a pawn in the high stakes game of dominance that is the culture of the Sith. 

 

This moment is exactly what Gaius has repeatedly warned her about.  This is the deadly risk that comes with being his mistress.   Eleena would love nothing more than to inform this man that if the Republic and a Jedi couldn’t break her loyalty to Lord Malgus, then he won’t succeed either.  But Eleena knows better.  Adraas is fully capable of following through on his threat and if she refuses to cooperate, then her life has no value to him. 

 

It’s a trap.  If she doesn’t help, she risks her life.  If she does help, she endangers her life because Adraas won’t want her around to tell the tale.  Or worse, he will want to tell the tale himself to Lord Malgus to reveal her betrayal.  Either way, she loses.  So drawing on the strategic battlefield advice she learned from Gaius, her next move is to spring the trap.  Eleena opens her mouth to pretend to play along.  And that’s when a loud male voice interrupts, “Adraas!” 

 

It’s Lord Angral in his red armor standing arms crossed in the doorway looking perturbed.  “There you are.  We have work to do.  Let her go.”

 

Lord Adraas doesn't appear eager to heed his superior’s order, but then the hulking figure of Lord Malgus arrives and that ups the stakes considerably.  Even from this distance, Eleena can see the conspicuous sword hilt in Gaius’ hand.  He’s ready for a fight, if necessary. 

 

But Gaius’ words are at odds with his stance.  “Do you like her?” Lord Malgus calls.  “If so, I’ll sell her to you when I’m done.”

 

Eleena tries but fails to ignore the sting of that comment.  She feels her face flush with humiliation. 

 

“As if I would ever take your leavings,” Lord Adraas shoots back.  He releases Eleena and shoves her back hard.  “You’re like some gross Hutt, Malgus.  Cavorting with alien women.”

 

Gaius shrugs.  “Suit yourself.  But let’s get back to work.”

 

“Now, Adraas,” Lord Angral barks sharply. 

 

Lord Adraas relents.  As he stalks away, Eleena looks up to see Lord Malgus turn on heel and leave.  His face is a blank, bored mask as usual.  Exasperated Lord Angral waves a hand to release the dogs.  Then he and Lord Adraas follow in Lord Malgus’ wake. 

 

Once again, Eleena recognizes what Gaius is doing.  She knows exactly why he is doing it.  But while his public pretense of crass indifference shouldn’t matter, somehow it does anyway.  And scenes like this occurring twice in one day in rapid succession are just too much for Eleena.  She feels hot tears bubble up to spill over.

 

Because words can hurt, even when they are said to protect you.   And words hurt the most when they are the insidious type that get inside your head and stoke your insecurities.  All of Eleena’s fragile self-confidence rests on her ability to ignore the harsh attitudes of others that she has inevitably internalized.    These are the voices in her head that insist that she’s not good enough and will never be good enough.  She’s just an alien slave and not a very attractive one at that.  So yeah, maybe she deserves this sort of treatment.  Eleena had developed a comfort zone here on the ship with her situation, but that crumbles now in an instant.

 

It’s times like this when a person has to dig deep and bounce back.  Because Eleena knows that she is worthy of respect regardless of her circumstances.  She knows that she merits kindness.  And she knows that those ugly names Lord Adraas called her reflect more on him than on her.  She also knows that in a twisted way, comments like that from Gaius show how much he cares.  But still . . . they hurt.   Oh, how they hurt all the same. 

 

Perhaps she ought to be focused on the very real danger posed by Adraas and the others.   But all Eleena can perceive is that the true risk of being Lord Malgus’ lady is this casual scorn, however well-intentioned it might be.  For while Gaius might build her up in so many ways, he will be forced on occasion to tear her down.  Lord Malgus’ help and guidance can only empower and protect her so much because in the twisted, dark world of the Sith there are always jealous haters plotting his downfall.  And the more he succeeds, the harder his enemies will fight.  Already it seems that Lord Malgus’ correct original assessment of Ziost has Darth Adraas worried that his enemy’s influence is rising.  Enough to provoke today’s attempt at a conspiracy with her.

 

Whoever said that love hurts was right, Eleena thinks, as she wipes away a tear.  Then she heads to go hide in Lord Malgus’ chambers.

 


	32. Chapter 32

When the meeting adjourns late in the evening, he goes in search of Leena. 

 

She’s not in his quarters. 

 

She’s not with the dogs. 

 

Where is she?  After the events of today, Lord Malgus instantly becomes alarmed.  Where is she??

 

His heart had stopped when he had walked into the garden to find Leena held fast in Adraas’ grip.  He knows that she is no helpless, defenseless woman.  Leena is far more of a fighter than she herself even perceives.  But Darth Adraas is not an opponent she can beat.  She knew it, too.   Her fear had been written across her features and it was screaming out to him in the Force. 

 

Watching Leena with Adraas had called to mind another woman in his life who had been preyed upon simply for her relationship to him.  How Malgus hates the danger he brings.   It makes potential victims of anyone he gets close to.   And so now that he cannot find Leena, he begins panicking inside.  Where is she??  He concentrates a moment in the Force and confirms that she’s alive and on his ship.  And that knowledge calms him as he keeps searching.

 

She’s not visiting the sick in the infirmary like she sometimes does. 

 

She’s not training with the team this late. 

 

Where is she? 

 

She’s at the firing range.  Malgus walks in, sees her, and sighs out his deep relief.   Somehow both of them have made it through this very trying day.  That seems a small miracle unto itself.  But watching Leena firing away oblivious to his arrival, Malgus sees that she has not emerged unscathed. 

 

The utilitarian shooting gloves she wears are an incongruous match for her elegant gown, but they perfectly fit the all-business look on her face.  Leena is doing long distance target practice and, from the look of all the spent plasma cartridges strewn at her feet, she’s been at it quite a while.  Watching her blank expression, he’s not even sure she’s aiming anymore.  She’s firing like it’s a reflex and aiming with muscle memory.  Every now and then, she misses a shot.  It doesn’t even seem to register.  And that tells him clearly that her mind is not on her shooting.

 

“Leena,” he begins softly, not wanting to scare her.

 

She looks over her shoulder and gives him a slight nod of acknowledgement.  Then she turns back to the targets.  “Are they gone?”

 

“Yes.”  Walking over to hover at her shoulder, he issues an apology of sorts under his breath.  “Leena, I had to do that.”

 

“I know.”  She immediately changes the topic.  “How did the meeting go?”

 

“Badly.  Very badly.”  Malgus looks around.  There are several officers here doing late night target practice but none are within easy earshot.  And that’s important because the constant bad news out of Ziost is hurting morale at all levels.  Malgus himself doesn’t want to add to that problem by fueling the rumors.  But this seems low risk, so he continues.  “Taking back Ziost this way was bound to fail.  We need to stop pouring men and resources into a world that is lost for now.  Others finally see that.  The Council finally sees that.”

 

“So they want to surrender?” she asks, still firing away. 

 

“They wouldn’t phrase it that way, but yes.  They want to open peace talks with the Republic.   Enlarge the neutral zone, agree to a cease fire . . . all the usual stuff.”

 

Leena makes a face.  “The Republic violated the neutral zone when they attacked Ziost.  How could we trust them to abide by any peace deal?”

 

“We can’t.  That’s why there is now a sizeable minority who want to stage an attack on the Core.”

 

She pauses and looks to him with surprise.  “Isn’t that your original plan?”

 

“No.”  He shakes his head.  “Only in theory.  They want some politically acceptable compromise that leaves some of our forces on Ziost while we take the rest to the Core.   It’s the worst of all scenarios.  It won’t leave enough troops on the surface to make a difference, it will abandon the blockade to allow the Republic to freely bring in reinforcements and supplies, and it will bleed critical ground combat resources I need on Coruscant.”

 

“But they have finally seen the wisdom of your idea?” she presses, sounding hopeful.

 

“Not really.  It’s more that they want to move on but they do not want to appear to give up on Ziost.”

 

“Because it would look like you accepted defeat,” she reasons aloud.

 

“Yes.  It is unacceptable to admit to defeat on Ziost.  Even the Lords who want to sue for peace would make the Republic pulling out of Ziost a non-negotiable item.”  Everyone is still outright rejecting his initial strategy to concede Ziost and head for the Core.

 

She resumes firing now.  “What does the Council think?”

 

“Old Azamin keeps prodding me for my Plan B, but it’s not finished.   I still don’t have a good ruse to sneak the firepower I need into the Core without attracting attention.  The drone trade ships could work for some of our forces, but not a command ship.  We’d need at least six dreadnoughts to support an attack on Coruscant.”

 

“You’ll think of something,” she decides, still firing away.  And he wishes he had her confidence.  He’s been puzzling over the Core invasion planning for months on and off now, with mixed results.  Some parts of his plan are fully developed with all contingencies thought through.  Other parts, most notably how to amass the invasion force, are still at the preliminary stages.    

 

But that’s not what he wants to talk about.  He’s all talked out on invading Coruscant.  So, he tries again.  “Leena, I’m sorry.  I had to say what I said in front of Adraas.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I wish there were another way but—"

 

“I know,” she snaps.  She sounds irritated. “I know, Gaius, I know.”  She inhales a ragged breath and starts firing even faster.  “I know that’s how it is.  But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

 

“Leena—”

 

She overrides him, something no one else on this ship would dare.  “Look, I get it.  It’s like the danger.  Those comments come with the territory.  I know what I signed up for,” she grumbles. 

 

Her resigned words hit home.  She will accept the risks and accept the public humiliation as the price of being with him.  It makes Malgus wonder again if Leena is getting enough out of this relationship.  She told him to follow his ambitions and she would make him happy, but she asks so little for herself.  He worries that means she might leave him in the long run.   That one day she will do the cost benefit analysis and he will come up short and it will be over.  And then, she’ll be gone.

 

If he could, he would promise her a respectable life together and a meaningful commitment.  But he can’t.   They have both known that all along.  The situation is what it is.  Like so many things in life, he can’t change this even though he wishes he could.

 

“I’m sorry.  I never meant to hurt you.  But the risks are real—"

 

“I know.” 

 

She does know.  Her face when he had walked in on her with Adraas had revealed her true fear.  Leena fully appreciates the risks.  And today, they were made very clear.  He had not exaggerated the precariousness of Leena’s position.  There had never been any fearmongering on his part.

 

He’s as miserable about today as she is.  Malgus wishes he had the right words to make it better.  But he doesn’t.  So they just stand together in silent solidarity as she keeps firing away.   One minute goes by.  Then another.  And another.  Her gun runs out of charge.  No problem.  Leena ejects the now exhausted plasma cartridge from her blaster and jams in a new one in a fluid, automatic motion that speaks of long practice.   She begins firing again.  Rapid, almost hypnotic shots.  The violence is strangely calming to watch.

 

This is like when she killed the Jedi woman on Ziost, Malgus understands.  Back then as now, Leena’s gun had expressed the hurt and frustrations that she could not voice herself.  Because this slave woman has depths of pain long repressed that seldom bubble over.  But when they do, it is a torrent of emotion.

 

He understands.  Oh, how he understands. 

 

This is their unspoken empathy for one another.  It’s a shared sense of otherness learned from a life of scorn.  Her experiences are different from the details of his past, but the same fundamental rejection lies at the core.  And both of them in their own ways are determined to endure and to matter nonetheless.  But it’s all combined with a big dose of self-doubt and nagging concerns of futility.  Of unspeakable fears that the voices of the haters are correct. 

 

And yet, here they are.  The slave woman dressed like a queen who fires a gun like few seasoned soldiers can.  The Sith Lord who fights for respect as fiercely as he fights his enemies.  Neither of them should be who they are, living the lives that they lead.  But they persevere nonetheless.  Even making the foolish choice to be together even though it could be the worst, most self-destructive decision ever.  Days like this, it’s he and Leena against the galaxy together, for their foes are found as much among the Sith as they are among the Republic.  

 

Gods, he thinks in a moment of reckless emotion, how he loves this woman.  

 

“Adraas is the one who killed your sister, isn’t he?” 

 

“Yes.”  It’s a very sore subject even after all these years.  “Did he tell you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did he threaten you?”

 

Leena shrugs as she keeps firing.  “He was rude and ugly.  He’s every bit as bad as you say he is.”

 

Malgus hears her evasion loud and clear.  His eyes narrow and he persists.  “Did he threaten you?”

 

“Yes.  He wants me to help thwart your upcoming marriage.”

 

Malgus scowls.  Lately, he’s thinking that he should thwart the marriage himself. 

 

“What were Adraas and the other two here for anyway?” she asks.  “Why did you bring them back?”

 

“It was my idea.”  A very bad idea, he sees in retrospect.   “Everyone knows I’m in charge of Plan B for Ziost.  So when I show up to meet on the _Oppressor_ , the rank and file get even more nervous about the war effort.  The rumors are flying as is.”  He sighs, very much regretting his suggestion this morning to withdraw to his ship.  He tries to explain, “Leena, in those settings, I am very watched.  It was hurting morale for my dissent to be so public.”

 

“You were a lightning rod today?”

 

He grunts and smirks.  “As always.” 

 

“Why is Adraas still alive?” she complains bitterly.  “Why haven’t you killed him by now?”  

 

Is she asking him to kill Adraas?  The truth is he would dearly love to murder that guy.  But Malgus knows better.  “Killing him will only make things worse for me.   He is from a powerful family and he is important and respected in his own right.  I will gain nothing but reprisals if I kill him.  I will only marginalize myself even more.  It’s a lose-lose move, Leena.”

 

Darth Malgus might be the master strategist of the Sith, but there are battles he can’t win.  And there are some mistakes that will forever haunt him.  Because even Sith Lords have regrets and feel guilt.  And looking at Leena’s sweet face in profile, he worries that she too will one day be something to regret.  Like Master Vindican’s daughter who took a lightsaber through her neck. 

 

And that prompts him again to explain, “Leena, I don’t like treating you like I did today.   You know that, right?”

 

“I know.” 

 

“I hate it!” he rasps.  “I hate it!”  It hurts him to treat her with the contempt that others have treated her with before. . . and treated him with too.  But does she believe him?   She has to believe him.  

 

She does.  She stops firing and lowers her weapon.  Leena looks over her shoulder at him and nods. “You’re worth it.”

 

Those three words are so . . . her.   This is Leena being Leena.   She believes in him the way no one else does and she’s willing to risk everything to be with him.   She is his cheerleader, confidante, best friend, and lover all rolled into one.  How did he ever get along without her?   He knows now that he will never be able to give her up.  Not for Serevin’s daughter or anyone else. 

 

“I love you.”  The words slip out with all the intensity of a shameful secret.  And honestly, that’s how it feels.  Like a confession.   But Malgus wants to tell her all the same.   He wants her to know how highly he values her, especially after today. 

 

Now he’s waiting for her to react, his breath inhaled as he stares in anticipation.  After what feels like forever, she swallows, wets her lips, and speaks:  “I love you, too.”  She says it soberly.  Like a declaration of purpose.   Like an immutable fact of life.  Like a vow.

 

They are in public in the firing range of his ship.  This isn’t the moment for her to fling herself into his arms even if she wanted to.   And, it doesn’t look like she does.  Instead, he just nods and she looks down.   This is how they do things even though they are not fooling anyone.  But they keep up the pretense all the same.   He is known for being cold and remote.  She always reverts to subservience.  But in truth, neither of those postures fits their real selves.  They are habits of self-defense learned long ago.

 

Perhaps it is fitting that they live lives of violence.  He met this woman when she tried to kill him.  These days, they exchange glances across a crowded battlefield.  He doesn’t know the details of the past abuse Leena has suffered and that is mostly willful ignorance.  For he cannot change the hurts of her past, just like he himself cannot seem to move beyond his own youthful mistakes.  But Malgus knows with certainty that he will largely be responsible for Leena’s hurts to come.  He’s marrying someone else and she lies to them both and says she’s fine with it.   He lies to himself that it will all work out in the end, both the marriage and the mistress.  Malgus knows he should let Leena go for both their sakes, but it’s far too late for that.

 

And so, she will be the other woman stashed on his ship, open and notorious.   But treated like trash in public before his peers.  What woman tolerates that sort of casual cruelty?   Only a woman who has been treated like trash her whole life.  It’s just more of the same for Eleena Daru, so she lets it roll off her back . . . sort of. 

 

She’s a slave so far beneath him that he ought not know her name.  And yet, if he could, he would slash her left hand and make her Lady Malgus.  Then they would live happily ever after, together forever in the Force.  But he’s a realist who knows that will never happen and it would destroy them both if it ever did.  This whole relationship is wrong on so many levels.  Darth Malgus is enough of an objective tactician to realize it is a very risky move.  He is being reckless with her life, with his career, and with both their hearts.   But he also knows that he cannot give her up. 

 

“Come,” he tells her, holding out his hand.  She nods and collects her gun.  Then, together they walk back to his quarters.  There they can exchange promises of love in private and seal it with a kiss, like normal people do.  And there will be no one to point fingers and cry shame and accuse him of being a weak fool for love.

 


	33. Chapter 33

He loves her.  She loves him.  It’s not a surprise, really.  Somehow, Eleena has always known this is the way things would end up.

 

Others might call their love an obvious mistake.  It’s reckless and foolish—anyone can see that.  There is no future for them but conflict and heartbreak.  But who cares?  Because the future is far from assured.  Since the moment Eleena laid eyes on the dangerous Darth Malgus, she has watched people die.   On his old ship, on his space station, on Ziost.  To be in this man’s orbit is to flirt with disaster and he freely admits it.  His so-called allies want to kill him.  His sworn enemies do too.   He pushes her away for her own protection, but she refuses to leave.  Because he’s worth it.  Absolutely worth it.

 

Eleena knows this as a realist.  She is no romantic, dreamy-eyed young girl.  She knows that love doesn’t conquer all.  That love is no panacea for life’s woes.   But love does make life immeasurably better in all sorts of ways.  Just being able to share your frustrations and fears with someone who cares matters.  It matters a lot.  And knowing that there is someone who’s got your back helps too. 

 

She and Gaius face an uncertain future amid an everchanging backdrop of war.  The Sith are losing and preparing to sue for peace.  The decades long campaign that has made Lord Malgus’ career is about to end.  And it’s happening at a time when he is more out of favor than ever with his peers.  To top it off, she’s about to watch him marry someone else.  She has his archenemy threatening her life unless she conspires to betray him.  For both of them, things are more bleak than ever in most respects.  Except . . . for this fragile but stubborn love. 

 

Neither of them is promised tomorrow.  Perhaps that’s why they cling so tightly to today.  To the sure thing that is each other . . . for now, at least.  For at its core, their bond is fueled by old hurts and intensified by a nagging sense of desperation.  Things are bad and getting worse, but at least they have each other.  And that’s the only commitment Eleena needs. 

 

And so, as they linger in each other’s arms late into the night, she is content.  Life isn’t a storybook, but if this is her happy ending, it’s more than she ever dreamed of back at Barrabas Logistics.  So she snuggles up closer on Darth Malgus’ broad chest as he talks of war.  Their pillow talk is always war.  Gaius is still processing the very ugly meeting on the _Oppressor_ that kicked off this long, eventful day. 

 

“Peace is slow suicide for the Sith,” he vents.  Tonight, Lord Malgus is more than discouraged, he is disgusted.  “The purpose of the Empire is war, and war needs an opponent.  The only thing that unifies the Sith Lords is our common enemy the Republic.”

 

“I can see that,” Eleena thinks aloud as she considers his words.  “If they don’t have the Republic to fight, they will fight each other.”

 

“Exactly,” he approves grimly.  “The Sith do not treat for terms, we win or dying trying.  Leena, if we make peace with the Republic, we will betray all our values.  It means the lives lost will be in vain.  But most importantly, it will be the beginning of the end.  Mark my words, if we make peace, our Empire will crumble in time.”

 

“You tried.  You really tried,” she soothes, feeling aggrieved on his behalf.  “You are the leader the Sith need now.  You’re a man of vision.  A man of action.”   

 

“I’m a man marginalized by the Council.  Unpopular with my peers,” he grumbles.  “I’m the wrong person to say these truths.  I know that now.  Maybe Angral could sway people’s minds.  But not me. Everyone discounts me.” Eleena can tell from his tone just how hard it is for him to admit this.   He sounds defeated.

 

“I wish there were a way to make them listen,” she commiserates. 

 

“Only the Emperor can do that.”

 

“Then you should be the Emperor,” she cheerleads as she languidly strokes his chest.

 

He grunts at this suggestion, but she knows it has crossed his mind.   He says what he always says in response.  “No one can depose Vitiate.  He is too powerful and too many are beholden to him.  His supporters would oppose any usurper.”   Lord Malgus shakes his head and sounds beleaguered.  “The Republic will fall eventually.  I thought I would be there to see it.   To be a part of it.  But I was wrong.”

 

“How do you know this?”  She is confused.

 

“I have foreseen it.  Years ago on the night we took Korriban, I saw it in the Force.  It was an amazing vision.  And a rare one for me.   Leena, the Republic will fall and the Sith will rule the galaxy.  Someday . . . “

 

“Does that mean the peace negotiations will fail?” she wants to know.

 

“Either this peace deal fails, or the Sith will subvert the will of the Force.”

 

Her eyes widen.  “What happens then?”

 

“I don’t know.”  He sounds especially ominous now.  “If we lose our way and stray from Darkness, I don’t know what will become of us.   Truly, I fear for the Sith.”

 

“You’re scaring me.”  

 

That prompts him to tug her closer.  “Whatever happens, we will have each other.”

 

That ought to reassure her, but it doesn’t.  “What did you see?  Tell me about this vision,” she demands, feeling suddenly anxious.

 

“There’s nothing more to tell.  Leena, the Force is fickle.  It never lies outright, but it can lead you to deceive yourself.   It teases the future but never reveals all of its secrets.”  He is rueful now.  “I had hoped that my invasion plan would be our chance.   That the Force would be with me and with the Sith.  But now, that has been proven wrong.”   His voice conveys all of his bitter frustration.  “It’s like we can see victory but can’t quite grasp it.  The path forward is right in front of us, but we don’t recognize the opportunity.”

 

“I’m sorry.”   She wishes there was more to say, but there isn’t.  They both know that.

 

He laces his hand through hers and squeezes tight.  “I am grateful for you.  There are days when I feel like I am screaming into the wind . . . that I am watching the slow-motion fall of our civilization . . . that our way of life is at risk . . . that everything I know will soon fade away.  Then, the legacy of the Sith will be told by our enemies, not ourselves.  They will make us the bad guys and not the heroes.”

 

“It will never come to that.”

 

“It might.”

 

“Don’t talk like that,” she chides.  It depresses her.  And seeing Gaius so off his stride depresses her too.   “Besides,” she tries to rally him, “your journal will tell the truth.”

“If anyone reads it.”

 

“Oh, people will read it.”  Lord Malgus is the brains of the Sith war machine.  He’s the innovative iconoclast who loses more than he wins, but who pushes and prods forward nonetheless.  Whatever else his peers think of him, no one doubts his brains.  The Republic, at least, recognizes who their number one enemy is.  It truly is galling how the Republic sizes up the preeminent Sith Lords far more astutely than the Sith Dark Council does.  But perhaps that is the benefit of having an objective outsider’s perspective, Eleena thinks.  You have a vantage point that the in-crowd does not.

 

“I’m glad you encouraged me to write a journal,” Gaius thanks her sincerely.  “It’s helping me to express my ideas and to organize them.  It’s also helping me to better understand their meaning in the grand scheme of things.”

 

“How so?”

 

He pauses a moment before he answers.  “Leena, if we do make peace, then I think I’m done.”

 

She sits up.  “Done?”

 

“Yes.”  He looks up at her with resignation in his eyes.  “I don’t want to spend the rest of my days supervising police operations and training missions.  I am a warrior Sith, not some administrator.  And peacetime just means more politics and posturing.”

 

“Gaius,” she whispers, “what are you saying?”

 

His words are calmly spoken, but she can sense the weight of deliberation behind them.  “I’m saying that if we walk away from this fight and surrender the war, then I might resign my commission and leave the navy.”

 

His life’s work is the navy.  He has the white-pale face and war record to show for it.  Moreover, he is the chief strategist for the entire Sith military.  “Can you do that?”

 

“There have been a few Lords to quit through the centuries.”

 

“What happened to them?”

 

“One or two defected to the Jedi.  They were seduced to the Light.”

 

“That’s not you—”

 

“No, it’s not,” he agrees.  “This is not a crisis of faith.  This is a crisis of purpose.  And I’m not having the crisis.  Everyone else is,” he grouses.

 

“Have there been others to quit?  Men who didn’t join the Jedi?”

 

“Yes. They were hauled before the Council to account for themselves.  A few were sent to the Emperor.”

 

“And then what happened?”  She’s almost afraid to ask. 

 

“He fried them with Force lightning.”

 

Yikes.  She’s seen Gaius do this in battle.  She knows how potent Force lightning is.  “Did they die?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Gaius!”   She’s aghast.  “You can’t do that!”

 

But he seems nonplussed by the prospect of execution by the Emperor.  “That’s how it works:  if you’re not with the Sith, you’re their enemy.  Ultimately, all Sith Lords serve at the behest of the Emperor.  That means you only get to quit if he lets you.”

 

“Oh.  Does he ever let someone quit?”

 

“Once or twice.”

 

“Okay, so assuming he lets you live, then what?”  Where is Gaius going with this?

 

“Then, we live happily ever after.”

 

He says it so glibly that she is reassured.  This is an escapist fantasy, she thinks, nothing more.  Just the musings of a frustrated man after a long day who is fantasizing about chucking his career, flouting his many responsibilities, and running away with his slave lover.  It’s fun to daydream, but he would never do this in practice.  Or . . . would he?   Eleena can’t imagine Gaius being anything other than what he is. 

 

“So . . . what do you say?”

 

She sighs as she settles back down.   She refuses to play along with this silly scheme.  “It’s not that simple.”

 

“It can be.”

 

“What about Lady Cassis?”

 

“Her father wants too many credits for her,” Lord Malgus gripes.  “He’s dragging his feet on a deal.  I may be a free man after all.  In which case, we can get married,” he announces. 

 

“Whaaaat?” she balks and sits up again.  This is really getting loony.   “You can’t marry me.”

 

“Why not?   I’ve done everything else I’m not supposed to do.  I might as well shock everyone completely.  Malgus the New quits being a Sith Lord and settles down with his blue lady.”

 

Eleena is indignant at the idea, even if she is deeply touched by it as well.  “I'm a slave.  And a Twi'lek.  You're slumming with me as it is.”

 

“Nonsense,” he corrects.  “You are far too good for me, and we both know it.”

 

 

“I’m serious,” she persists.   She forces herself to say the words she knows are for the best.  “If you don’t marry Lady Cassis then you should marry into one of those other fancy families.”

 

“I've been trying that for years.  They won't have me.  Lady Cassis is my best chance and it’s only because her family is penniless.  Look, I won’t cry if I can’t reach a deal with Serevin.  Lady Cassis means nothing to me.  And besides, I only want you.   I love you,” he tells her again.  And truthfully, she can’t hear those three words enough.   “I’m serious.  If this alliance falls through, then let’s get married.  I don’t care what people think.”

 

He is serious.  She knows that tone.  But she also knows that this is his disappointment and rejection talking.  It’s been a long, ugly day for both of them and he’s vulnerable tonight.  So staring down into his handsome face, she shakes her head no. “Gaius, I love you too much to let you do that.”

 

“You’re worth it.”

 

“That’s not the point.”

 

“You will marry me,” he growls as he wags a meaty finger before her nose.  “That’s an order. I am in charge here.”

 

 She chuckles as she cups his cheeks and smiles down at him.  “You just think that.”

 

“Maybe someday, I will make you an Empress,” he muses.  He’s back to escapist daydreaming.  “Maybe I’ll overthrow Vitiate after all.”

 

“A slave as an Empress?” she scoffs.  “Not gonna happen.”

 

“You’re not a slave anymore.”

 

That doesn’t matter in the social pecking order.  She sighs.  “Once a slave, always a slave.  Even though I’m free, the taint is there.  So, I'm not going to marry you.  Especially if you are the Emperor.  I will just have to be the Emperor's lover,” she decides.  

 

“Consort,” he bargains.   “Consort sounds much more dignified than lover.  But fair warning:  if you refuse to marry me when I am Emperor, then I will chain you to my throne.”

 

She laughs again.  “That makes you sound more like a Hutt than an Emperor.”

 

“I'll do it.”

 

“Chain me to the bed,” she suggests as she drops a kiss on his shoulder.  “I would prefer that.”

 

He reconsiders.  “Actually, I might prefer that, too.”

 

She snuggles up close again and whispers, “It’s been a long, hard day.  Let’s get some sleep.  Things will seem better in the morning.  They always do.”

 

They are quiet for a long moment together.

 

“Gaius?” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re not a quitter.”  When he doesn’t respond, Eleena argues softly, “If you were a quitter, you wouldn’t be who you are now.  You would never have gotten this far.  You’re a leader.  You’re a leader whose time will come.  You’ll see.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” comes his doubtful response.

 

Silence falls again for a long moment.

 

“Gaius?”

 

“Hmmm?” He’s already drifting off. 

 

“Don’t forget your mask.”  He sleeps so much better with his respirator on.

 

“Right.  Thanks.”

 

The next morning, Lord Malgus is up especially early.  His comlink went off in wee hours.  It had awoken them both, but he got up to take the call while she rolled over and went back to sleep.  Now, two hours later at a more respectable time, Eleena is up and going about their usual routine.  She’s fresh from a shower and smelling of soap and toothpaste when the droid arrives with their breakfast order.  Eleena answers the door wearing her elegant satin and lace dressing gown tied loose with nothing underneath.   

 

Today, she’s eager for some caf.  Interrupted sleep always makes her drowsy the next day.  She pours herself a generous cup and one for Gaius too.  He likes to spend time alone in his private office before breakfast while he goes over messages and the newsfeeds.   Usually, Lord Malgus can be found bent over at least three datapads at his desk with the screens on the walls all lit around him as well.  Eleena typically brings him a steaming hot cup of caf, kisses him good morning, and lets him know that breakfast is served.  So today, Eleena breezes into his office as usual.   She determined to cheer him up after yesterday’s maudlin late-night conversation.

 

The office is empty.  That’s unusual.  But the doorway to the small conference room adjacent to Gaius’ private office is open.  It’s never used as far as she knows, but Eleena pokes her head in anyway just to check.

 

“Found you!”  She smiles playfully from the doorway.  “The kitchen messed up the order again today and you didn’t get your--“  Eleena stops abruptly, suddenly realizing that she has intruded.  “Oh . . . Oh, I’m sorry . . . ”

 

Lord Malgus is not alone. 

 

Instantly, she reverts to a servant’s role.  Eleena lowers her eyes and her speech and tone become much more formal.  “Forgive me, my lord.  I did not know that you had a guest.” 

 

Gaius is seated with a sharp-eyed man of late middle age who has fading blonde hair shot with silver.  The man is wearing a military uniform with a patch on his right shoulder that Eleena does not recognize.  That means he’s not from the _Absolute_.  All crew members wear the insignia of their Dark Lord commander on their uniform.  It’s one more aspect of the tribalism that permeates the Sith military. 

 

Eleena can feel herself flushing.  With her free hand, she self-consciously clasps the silky robe she is wearing closer across her bosom.  Here she is barefoot and en dishabille, without even her headband, in Lord Malgus’ private chambers.    She cringes and drops her head even lower.  This is awkward.

 

But apparently not for Gaius.  “It’s fine, Leena,” he waves her in. “I could use some caf.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”  Eleena sets the cup down in front of Gaius.  She studiously avoids meeting the eyes of the poker-faced stranger sitting opposite him.

 

“Bring him some too.”  Lord Malgus gestures to his companion.  “He flew all night to get here.  Lord Azamin sent him.”

 

“Yes, my lord.  Lieutenant, how do you like your caf?” Eleena solicits nervously.  “Let me bring you a cup.”

 

The man blinks at her silently.  Somewhat hostilely.

 

“You just demoted him,” Lord Malgus smirks.  “He’s a Major.”

 

“Oh, yes, of course.  Please forgive my mistake.  Sir, I meant no offense.”   Eleena never can keep military rankings straight.  It’s a running joke among the strike team members.  She wouldn’t know a PFC from a four-star general, or an ensign from an admiral.  Normally, that doesn’t matter much, but now it compounds the awkwardness.  And this guy works for a powerful Sith Lord on the Dark Council, too.  Can this get any worse?  She’s blushing purple all the way up to her lekku now for sure.

 

The Major in question quietly responds.  “I prefer black caf.  Thank you.”  Then, the visitor shoots a questioning eye at Lord Malgus.  “She has a Republic accent.”

 

Gaius ignores the observation.  “Tell me more about the negotiating team,” he orders as Eleena ducks back next door. 

 

But the man balks.  Eleena hears it all through the open door.  “My lord, this is highly confidential.  Is your servant loyal?”

 

“Leena is trustworthy.”

 

“Good.  But my lord, I must insist that we close that door when she’s done.”

 

Eleena now returns to hand over her own untouched cup of caf and mumbles, “I will leave you to your work.”  Then, she heads for the door.

 

“Wait,” Gaius commands her.  He turns back to the Major.  “Leena is not my servant.  She’s my—“

 

“Slave,” Leena rushes out.  “I’m his sl—"

 

“Wife,” Gaius corrects.  He shoots the major a pointed look. “Unofficially, of course.”

 

“My lord!” Eleena retorts in a very irked tone that is ironically very wifey.  She has a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face to match. 

 

“What??” Gaius shoots back.  He’s unrepentant.  “The whole crew knows by now.  The Major here can be discreet.”

 

Lord Malgus now looks pointedly to the circumspect Major who nods fast. “Yes, of course, my lord.”

 

“You see?”

 

A moment of uncomfortable silence follows as Eleena furrows her brow and annoyed Gaius glares back at her.  Apparently, that marriage talk last night was more than just talk.

 

For his part, the poker faced Major says nothing.  He looks as if he would rather not be present for any of this bickering.  Because there are scripts for certain social situations.  You meet the boss and you shake hands and endeavor to seem personable and helpful.  You meet the boss’ wife and you smile and say hello and maybe ask about the family.  It’s all very benign and pleasant so long as no one veers from the script.  But there is no script for this. 

 

“She is the only person on this ship who won’t take a direct order,” Gaius grumbles.  “If she were just a servant, she would do as she is told.”

  

That’s the Major’s cue.  Now, it’s his turn to apologize.  “I meant to no offense, Missus . . . ah . . . Lady . . . ah . . . Ma’am . . . “  Titles are a big thing with the Sith, and the Major evidently fears choosing the wrong one.  But what do you call the unofficial wife of a Dark Lord of the Sith?

 

“Call me Eleena,” she jumps in to end his rambling.  She wants to end this wife talk too.  Nothing good will come of that.  “My name is Eleena Daru,” she informs the Major.

 

Gaius now completes the introductions.  “Major Vassily here works for Darth Azamin.  He’s here with news of the peace proposal.   The Council has assembled a negotiating team that will approach the Republic Senate.”

 

“They are really going forward with this?” she asks wanly.  Her disappointment is evident in her voice.  “The Council wants to lay down arms after all these years of war?”

 

“The majority of the Council does,” the Major confirms. 

 

“That’s a mistake.” The comment slips out, and she colors at this impolitic remark.  But, she refuses to take it back.  “Forgive me, it is not my place.  But it’s just so disappointing.”

 

“No one disagrees with you,” Lord Malgus sighs.  “Vassily is here because Darth Azamin shares our opinion.   Azamin has managed to get me an audience before the Dark Council to present my alternative Core invasion plan.”

 

This is news.  Eleena’s face lights up.  “Really??  They finally agreed to listen?”

 

He nods, but doesn’t seem too excited about it.  Gaius instantly starts making explanations and qualifications.  It’s almost like he’s making sure to lower his expectations as well as hers.   “It’s a last-ditch effort to influence things.  It’s a long shot.  And the plan isn’t finished.  I’m still missing my big ruse to stage our battle assets.”

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she gushes.  “This is wonderful!  When is the audience?”

 

“In thirty-six hours on Dromund Kaas,” Gaius answers.  And, yikes, that’s not much time especially when you factor in the transit time.  “I’ll just have to go with what I’ve got and see if that’s enough to convince them to stall at least.”

 

“Oh.”  She meets his eyes.  It won’t be enough, and they both know it.   The Council is only going to accept a fully developed, thoroughly analyzed battle plan.  The now deflated Eleena looks to the Major.  “How does this peace proposal work?” she asks warily.

 

Major Vassily looks to Lord Malgus, and he nods his permission to answer.  Looking slightly askance at this decision to involve civilian Eleena, Darth Azamin’s man nevertheless complies.  “Things work differently in the Republic. We have to convince their Senate to open peace talks,” he explains.  “That could take some time.  Democracy is very inefficient.   No single person makes a decision on major issues, not even their Supreme Chancellor.  First, the Senators have to debate the matter and then they vote.  Majority rule and all that . . . ”

 

Yes, she knows.  Republic-born Eleena cuts to the chase.  “This offer will shock them.  Maybe confuse them.  They won’t see this coming at all.”

 

“Maybe.  Maybe not,” Lord Malgus shrugs.  Then he states what everyone thinks but fears to say out loud.  “They are winning the war, Leena.  This will confirm it.”

 

“Okay,” she concedes as her mind works furiously.  She wants to understand better.  “Let’s say they agree to peace talks.  Then what happens?”

 

“We convene a conference with representatives from both sides to discuss a deal,” the Major answers.

 

“That’s when the Council sends in the diplomats.  Likely headed by Lord Serevin,” Lord Malgus reveals.   

 

Eleena makes note of that namedrop and moves on.  “Where is the peace conference?” she asks as a wild idea begins to form. 

 

“The location will have to be agreed,” the Major answers.  “All the details will have to be agreed.  Where we meet, how many representatives there are, whether there is a preliminary cease-fire.”

 

Eleena thinks a moment and then objects. “No.”  She looks to Gaius and repeats with more certainty, “No.  The conference must be held in the Core.  That’s important.  Put it in the proposal.” 

 

The Major now has an impatient tone.  Clearly, he thinks they are wasting time explaining this to her and he doesn’t want her input.  “The proposal is finalized.  It has us meeting in the neutral zone on a neutral world.  That’s safest for our representatives and it gives neither side territorial advantage.”

 

Eleena ignores this information.  She stares Gaius down.  “You have to hold the peace talks in the Core.  Don’t you see?   This is the solution you’ve been looking for!”

 

Gaius is watching her closely and his eyes narrow.  He sees where she is going with this.  “Yes.  We negotiate in the Core.   That’s the ruse.”

 

“Yes!”  She’s got it now.  “You get the Republic to agree to negotiate for peace.  Let them think we are ready to surrender—“

 

“So they lower their vigilance,” Lord Malgus reasons aloud.

 

“Yes!” She’s excited now as together they brainstorm real-time, playing out the scenario. “You use the peace talks as your reason to bring command ships to the Core.  Everyone knows each Sith Lord has his own ship.  So every diplomat you send brings his own dreadnought.  In reality, they are all warships prepped for the invasion,” she proposes. 

 

The skeptical Major is nodding along now, too. “We pretend to make peace but in reality, we prepare for war.”  He looks to Lord Malgus, not bothering to hide his shock at this impromptu idea from an unlikely source.  “This could work . . . this could really work.”

 

Gaius is coming around to the idea fast.  “Yes, and I could sell this idea to the Council because it preserves both options.” Lord Malgus is already analyzing the thorny internal politics.  Because with the Empire, the internal politics are as much of an obstacle as the enemy.  “It’s the perfect punt.   Azamin can assure the peacemakers on the Council that if the peace process is working, then we will continue with the negotiations.  But if not, we are poised to invade.  It gives us time to hedge our bets while things shake out.”

 

“Which means time to convince the naysayers on our side,” the Major agrees.  He addresses Lord Malgus grimly, “Peace is a lie, my lord.  You know that and Darth Azamin knows that.   But many of our leaders have forgotten that wisdom.”

 

“What time is it?” Gaius asks abruptly. 

 

“A little after oh-six-hundred,” the Major answers.  “When are the others assembling?”

 

“My staff and Ledbetter and a few others I handpicked are meeting us at six thirty.  General Frankus is on his way now and will join us.”

 

“Frankus is in on this?” the Major looks shocked.

 

“Yes,” Lord Malgus confirms.  “Don’t be fooled.  Frankus is with us.  Just not openly since he reports to Adraas.”  His eyes find hers now.  He’s impressed.  “Leena, your idea is a good one.  A very good one.  We just need to develop it some more.”

 

“Put her on the team, my lord,” Major Vassily boldly suggests.  Suddenly, he drops his attitude of condescension towards Eleena.  “We don’t have time to waste.  This was her idea and she might have other good ideas.”

 

“But I’m not a tactician,” she squirms a bit at this unorthodox suggestion.  “I’m an accountant,” she says defensively. 

 

“Leena, you’ve been down to Ziost for raids as much as anyone on this ship.  You know a thing or two about war,” Lord Malgus points out.  “Plus, you’re Republic born and bred.  None of the rest of us can say that we truly understand how the enemy thinks.”  He looks her in the eye.  “Do this for the Empire.  Now, go get dressed.  You can’t go like that.”

 

“Wait—she’s been to Ziost??” the Major gapes at Lord Malgus.  And then at Eleena.  “You go on raids?”

 

“She’s the best shot on my ship,” the Sith Lord says proudly, “and she survived Republic interrogation with a Jedi.  She’s tough enough for you, Major.  My Leena has grit.”  He gives her a little nod.  “She’s not a quitter.”

 

The comment has a subtext that’s just between them.  She nods back.  “The Sith are not quitters.”

 

And that’s how Eleena finds herself holed up in a conference room for the next eighteen hours straight plotting to overthrow the Republic by invading Coruscant.  Lord Malgus has assembled a working group of seasoned professionals, but it’s not the top brass like you might expect.  Yes, his four aides-de-camp are present, along with Captain Ledbetter, Major Vassily, and the newly arrived General Frankus.  Commander Barker, the leader of the strike team she trains with, is there as well.  But the other men are from lower ranks.  They oversee supply lines, munitions, and other combat support services.  Or they are run-of-the-mill pilots who police the blockade.  There are even some trooper squad leaders who fought with Lord Malgus down on Ziost. 

 

Altogether, it’s a mishmash of all disciplines and command levels.  And that’s typical of merit-based Darth Malgus.  This is exactly the sort of thing that earns him disdain in the status obsessed culture of the Sith.  But he doesn’t care.   He’s never been much for hierarchy and he’s well aware that a lot of good ideas originate at low levels and percolate up.   Regardless of rank, every person in the room has managed to impress Lord Malgus at some point, and they all have expertise to contribute to the battle plan.

 

Including her, as it turns out.  For much of the day, Eleena spends her time quietly listening to the brainstorming and analysis.  These men are all trained in warcraft, unlike her.  It makes Eleena intimidated to speak up.  As a result, she just sits and mulls it over as a spectator.   

 

It’s late in the afternoon as once more they go over the attack plan.  Eleena listens to how a small strike team will disable Coruscant’s defensive shield grid to allow for the attack.  For this task, they will employ a Mandalorian mercenary team Lord Malgus has used before.  It’s a bit unorthodox for such a critical part of the battle plan, but he wants to retain plausible deniability if they fail.  Worst case, the Republic will catch a ragtag band of Mandalorian and alien guns-for-hire that they will not immediately connect to the Sith.  That way, the aborted invasion plan will not necessarily jeopardize the peace process.  Or so, everyone hopes.  The Sith armada is not timed to come out of hyperspace until the local grid is down to keep up the pretense.  Up until the very last moments, Lord Malgus will retain the ability to call the invasion off.

 

But if all goes well with the mercenaries, a simultaneous ground assault and aerial bombardment will follow.  There are strategic targets like the giant Coruscant spaceport, com towers and power generators on all levels of the urban planet, the local defense force headquarters, and the Senate itself.  The goal is to have command and control over all aspects of the planet within eight hours so they can force a surrender.   This portion of the battle plan has been in the works for months, and it is all meticulously thought out.  Except for one glaring omission, Eleena thinks, as she ponders whether to speak up.

 

From across the room at the head of the table, Lord Malgus interrupts the presentation.  “Leena, you keep frowning.   Talk to me.  What’s up?”

 

Tentatively, she begins.  “What about the Jedi Temple?   How are you handling the Jedi?” she asks. 

 

“We’re ignoring them.  It’s a conscious decision to focus elsewhere.  The Jedi are a distraction, like on Ziost.   Our goal is to secure control of Coruscant.  We can ignore the Jedi and still do that.”

 

“Not for long,” she counters softly. 

 

“Speak up,” Gaius urges.

 

She does, trying to sound more confident.  This isn’t a setting she’s used to.  But, here goes.  “The Jedi are relentless,” she argues.  “They’ll be everywhere in the streets within hours.  It will be just like on Ziost.  And that will complicate things for our troopers.”

 

“We have the Jedi Temple as a Class A target on the bombardment,” one of the pilots speaks up. “That should take out at least some of them.”

 

Eleena persists.  “The Jedi matter for more than just Coruscant.  Doesn’t the Jedi High Council supervise the knights embedded with the Republic armies across the galaxy?   Don’t we need to disable their command structure so there will be no organized pockets of resistance once we force a surrender?  And so they can’t immediately call in reinforcements?”

 

“They will do that anyway,” Lord Malgus concludes.  But he looks to Captain Ledbetter now.  “Captain?  What do you think?”

 

The man shrugs.  “Assassinating the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate leadership ought to destabilize their government sufficiently.”

 

“Perhaps,” Leena argues back as she forgets her initial self-consciousness, “but that will only make the Jedi more important.  They’ll be the last legitimate authority left in the Republic.  If anything, we will have made the Jedi more influential if the timeframe for surrender does not go as planned.”

 

Lord Malgus mulls this over. “Anyone else have an opinion?” he addresses the room.  “Speak up.”

 

Lieutenant Commander Barker and the troopers side with her.  So do Major Vassily and two of Lord Malgus’ aides-de-camp.  But others agree that the Jedi can be dealt with later.  They not a critical issue, Ledbetter argues the opposing view.  The Jedi at the temple can be executed along the rest of the Republic Senators once surrender is achieved.  In the end, there is no clear consensus view.  So, Lord Malgus puts in an attack on the Jedi Temple as one of the optional points for the Dark Council to consider.  Then, they move on.

 

The working group doesn’t finish per se.  It’s more that they run out of time.  Lord Malgus excuses himself and Eleena follows.  As she suspects, he’s heading for his quarters for a quick shower and a change of clothes before he departs.  For his audience before the Dark Council, Darth Malgus will wear the ceremonial armor that Eleena has only seen sitting in the closet.  It is shiny and black without a scratch on it.  Atop the armor, he dons an ornately embroidered hooded cape that is lined in dark grey satin.  Altogether, it is a rich, princely look that makes her smile with pride. 

 

“You look like you could rule the galaxy,” Eleena says as she pulls up his hood and settles it over his brow.  “How handsome you are.”

 

Gaius grunts at this compliment. “I wear this for weddings, funerals, and to get hauled before the Council to get yelled at.” 

 

“Not this time,” she tries to stay positive.

 

“Leena,” he cautions, “Don’t get your hopes up.”

 

His blunt cynicism says it all:  he’s expecting to be dressed down by his superiors like he has been in the past.  His prior appearances before the Dark Council have not gone well and Darth Malgus’ maverick reputation proceeds him.   So, this time around he’s anticipating the usual skeptical, combative audience.  She can tell that Gaius is trying hard to hide his misgivings.  Because even Sith Lords can find it challenging to speak truth to power.  

 

Her heart goes out to him.   She knows that this is an opportunity that Gaius has wanted for a long time, but these are not the circumstances he would have chosen.  He’s presenting a partially finished battle plan to a panel of councilmembers who have mostly made up their minds already.  But still . . . this is his chance to make a difference. 

 

Darth Malgus doesn’t look optimistic, but he looks determined.   And that’s a welcome sight after his self-doubts last night.  Determination is very characteristic of this man.  He is driven more by duty than by drama, even if drama seems to inevitably dog his footsteps.  Still, Eleena knows what others do not:  that ambitious Darth Malgus is far less motivated by his own aims than his peers are.  That selflessness is what makes him a good leader, she thinks. 

 

“Good luck,” she bids him.

 

He grouses back, “There’s no such thing as luck.”

 

She’s heard that line before.  “Then may the Force be with you.”   She kisses him softly on the cheek.  “May the Force be with us all.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he warns yet again.

 

Yes, she knows.  “My faith is in you.  Not the Council.  Whatever happens, happens.  Just do your best.”

 

He nods.  “Let’s go.  I’m late.”

 

She walks him to the hangar bay and he promptly departs. 

 

What follows is a day and a half of fretting.  The Dark Council does not publicize its meetings and it does not release its decisions.  Its proceedings are related by word of mouth only.  Because, as usual, the Sith conduct business by rumor and innuendo.  Everything is on a need-to-know-basis.   That means Eleena and the rest of the working group are in the dark about what happened at Darth Malgus’ presentation.  So, when his shuttle is reported as being inbound, the entire working group minus Lord Adraas’ General assembles in the hangar bay.  Everyone is on pins and needles, awaiting the report. 

 

When the shuttle lands and Darth Malgus marches down the ramp, Eleena and the others are waiting with baited breath.   “Well?” she asks anxiously on behalf of the group.  She can’t stand the anticipation any longer.  “What did they say, my lord?”

 

Gaius’ white face breaks into a rare grin.  It transforms his normally serious expression, with its habitually lowered brow and downturned mouth.  Suddenly, Lord Malgus appears years younger.  “The Council agreed with our plan.  I am ordered back to prepare for war.”

 

A cheer erupts at this news.

 

“You did it,” Eleena breathes out her relief.  A wide smile beams across her face now, too.  She’s resisting the urge to run into his arms for a kiss.  “You did it!”  She couldn’t be more proud.

 

“We did it,” he corrects, looking around at the others who had contributed to the effort.  “We did it.  Darth Angral will lead the overall invasion.”

 

“Not you?” Eleena reacts.

 

“No.  I will lead the attack on the Jedi Temple.  Leena, you got your wish.  The Temple will be a primary target.   Adraas will oversee the ground assault.  Angral will storm the Senate.”  He rattles off the names of several other prominent Dark Lords who will command the Sith armada for the anticipated space battle above Coruscant.  “There will be a lot to coordinate.   It will all be done from here and from the _Oppressor_.”

 

“When do we start, my lord?” Captain Ledbetter at her side asks.

 

“Now.  The Council is sending an offer of peace to the Republic Senate today.  Hopefully, that means this invasion is only a few weeks away.  Angral, Adraas, and the others are on their way here now.”   He turns to her.  “You will need make yourself scarce.  I don’t want you running into them again.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” she instantly agrees.  She has no desire for a repeat confrontation.

 

Looking weary but supremely satisfied, Lord Malgus announces to the assembled men behind her, “Today is the beginning of the end of the Republic.  We will do more than just save the Empire and liberate Ziost.  We will win this long war and bring order to the galaxy.  We will avenge our dead and the destroy Jedi for good.  You, gentlemen,” he commends his motley working group, “will be the heroes to do it.”  Darth Malgus quietly proclaims, “Once more, the Sith will rule the galaxy.   With honor and courage as befits the cause of Darkness.”

 

Captain Ledbetter nods happily as he responds, “Death to the Republic.  Death to Coruscant.”

 

The men behind him echo this rallying cry to their Sith Lord.  Eleena sees his eyes flash yellow in the moment.  Yes . . . Darth Malgus is back to being his normal confident self.

 

“Come,” he beckons everyone forward.  “We have a war to plot.”   But he leans in to confide for her ears alone:  “The Force is with us.”

 

End of Part Three

 

More to come . . .


	34. Chapter 34--Story Notes to Part 3

There isn’t much to say about Part 3, but here’s a little background. 

 

Does anyone fall in love anymore?  I worry that I am getting old because my values and life experiences seem so dated compared to the culture. Maybe I just need to stop reading the Modern Love column in the NY Times.  I don’t consider myself a prude, but I can’t relate to hookup culture and Tinder in the least.  Anyhow, it makes me wonder why bother writing about love?  Does anyone even want to read about love?   Is love boring now?  Falling in love is such a magical thing, and yet it seems so quaint these days.  Do young girls still want to fall in love and get married, or is that considered backward in this girl-power age?  Internet dating looks scary too.  In the never-ending drumbeat of #metoo drama that pervades the media these days, I can’t help but wonder if things would improve if as a society we put the love before the sex, and not vice versa.  Like maybe you should have to have an actual relationship with someone before you expect sex from them?    Geez . . . I guess I’m old.  Or maybe it’s just that I’m a parent now and I see things differently.   Anyhow, I think my next story might just dispense with romance entirely. 

 

But as usual in this tale, my Sith Lords do not have casual sex.  No commitment issues here!  You go to bed with one of these guys and you’re likely to end up married.  That’s not the case here in the arranged marriage world of the Sith, but Malgus has a quasi-marriage type commitment to Eleena anyway.  As always, my Dark Lords fall hard, fall fast, and fall forever.  Each relationship is different.  But Malgus and Eleena are somewhat unique because Eleena is the aggressor.  She doesn’t make the first move, but she’s the one pushing for the affair.  I like that role because as a former slave dependent on Malgus’ goodwill, Eleena is objectively the far less powerful figure.  Things are misleading with my Sith on all sorts of levels, and the power imbalance between my Sith Lords and their ladies is just one example.   Everyone knows the woman is in charge, right??  Even when she pretends that she’s not.  Maybe especially when she pretends she’s not.  (This happens all the time in my Reylo fics.  Even when Kylo has Rey locked in the basement of his palace in _The Chosen One_ , she still exerts control ways that frustrate him.)

 

My other Sith stories often feature the concept of a secret wife.  Those stories include several references that in Ye Olde Sith days, wives and families were hidden away for their own protection so that they would not be become targets in the ongoing plots and conflicts.   I wanted to give some credence to that lore in this story.  And so Darth Malgus has an inherited ‘sister’ who gets killed in a plot against him.  Malgus has many enemies and therefore good reason to fear for Eleena.  Training her to protect herself takes on a new importance as their relationship grows.  That self-defense training is how Eleena ends up fighting at Malgus’ side in the war.  Initially, Eleena joins Team Sith out of gratitude and loyalty to Darth Malgus.  But her experiences as a prisoner on Ziost radicalize her into a true believer.  She doesn’t start out as a traitor to the Republic, but she ends up as one. 

 

Part 3 continues Eleena’s story as she begins making more decisions for herself.  She’s gaining confidence in her new environment and some status too, thanks in part to her marksmanship.   She’s far from overcoming her slave background, however.  Malgus spends Part 3 doing what he always does—he struggles for respect and prestige.  He has growing doubts about his ability to succeed and about the future of the Sith as a whole.  Falling in love with Eleena isn’t helping things, naturally.  See him pulling away little by little from his Sith brethren.  Entertaining alternative fantasies of running away from his responsibilities by quitting or doubling down on his responsibilities by deposing Vitiate.  Neither is realistic, of course.   But they are telling, all the same.  Malgus ends Part 3 encouraged to finally have his big break.  His faith in the Sith is renewed a bit.  But the Battle of Coruscant is not going to go the way he thinks. 

 

As mentioned in earlier notes, I am trying to keep my version of Malgus and Eleena true to the major aspects of the EU Legends version of these lovers.  Malgus did indeed treat Eleena as wife in private and others knew of this.  Some materials on the internet even refer to Eleena as his wife.  Malgus also has undisclosed parentage in the EU, the same as in my story.  In canon, Malgus is the adopted son of a biologist who runs a private zoo.  I figured he grew up around animals a lot, so I decided to give him pet dogs.  My other gloss on this plot point has Malgus as an out of wedlock son to an undisclosed Sith Lord.  More on that to come in Part 3.  It wouldn’t be Star Wars if there weren’t some “who’s your daddy?” moment, right?  In canon, Malgus has a Force vision of the fall of the Republic.  That too appears in my tale.  It gives Malgus a sense of destiny for the Sith and for himself.  Canon also speaks of Lord Malgus as a veritable Darth Reformer, always frustrated with the state of the Sith culture.  He is a man often at odds with his peers, but dutybound nonetheless.  I have tried to recreate that characterization in this tale. 

 

Malgus did keep a journal and in the EU excerpts of it were passed down to Darth Sidious and Vader.  Supposedly, Vader self-identified with Malgus, for whatever that’s worth.  But in my head canon, the true legacy of Malgus’ journals are not the fragments that make it down to Sidious and Vader.  It will be the complete set that makes down to Darth Bane.  In my mind, Bane gets credited with the Rule of Two, but that decision is a combination of necessity at the time (there were few Sith Lords left) coupled with the influence Malgus’ experience and wisdom.  Bane sees what Malgus saw generations previous and he reforms the Sith as a result.  Under Bane, the Sith become a secret society and religion, and not a vibrant culture like they are in the time of Malgus.  Is that a better solution?  Who knows.  But times change and life changes with it.  When the sun sets on the Sith Empire, the Age of the Republic dawns and the Dark Lords morph into roles we are more familiar with in the movies.

 

I will go quiet for a bit to work on Part 3.  The ending of this tale will cover the events of the sacking of Coruscant.  It’s a complicated story that I want to recreate in essence.  All the main conflicts will be present, but I will compress the specific events somewhat to make it more manageable to write and to read.  But rest assured, a lot is about to go down fast.  RIP a lot of Jedi, for sure.   RIP also any willingness of Darth Malgus to be a team player going forward.  By the time this story ends, our hero will lose a great deal, but he will be far from defeated.  He will emerge a more violent, embittered man.  As any true Sith Lord will attest, the path to power is through pain. 

 

So take note:  this story will be true (sort of) to the official version of Malgus and Eleena.  That means it’s not a happy ending.  I didn’t caption _Darker_ as a tragedy accidentally.  The conflicts and motivations are all set in place.  Now, it’s time to watch events unfold.  You are warned!!


	35. Chapter 35

It’s early morning and Gaius is heading out the door to spend the day planning the sacking of the Jedi Temple.  “I’ll buzz you on the com when I take a break,” he promises as he flicks up his hood.  “Then, I’ll come get you and we’ll go see the dogs for a few minutes.”

 

“Two breaks,” Eleena immediately starts bargaining. 

 

“We’ll see.  We have a lot to cover.”

 

“It’s boring in here all alone all day,” she complains.  It comes out a bit petulant.  But Eleena is going stir crazy cooped up in Lord Malgus’ quarters all day with the door locked with the Force.  Three days straight of ‘house arrest’ as she calls it is making her grumpy.

 

“You’re safest here,” he reminds her, looking impatient to be away.  And, yes, she knows that the _Absolute_ is the nerve center for the Coruscant invasion planning.  That means most days the warship is swarming with Dark Lords.  Gaius’ solution has been to stash her away like a prisoner when heretofore she’s had the run of the ship.  Eleena appreciates the risks involved, but she’s also chafing a bit.  This former slave relishes her freedom above all things.

 

“What if I promise to stay off A-Deck?” she tries bargaining some more.

 

He shakes his head no.  “Adraas is back today.  If he were in the room with me where I could keep an eye on him, then things might be different.  But he and the ground assault guys are down the hall with Angral.  I don’t know what he’s up to.”   Malgus reaches to cup her cheek.  “You are precious to me.  Give me one less thing to worry about,” he cajoles.

 

It's gently and sincerely said.  Eleena lowers her eyes and backs down.  “You’re right, my lord.”

 

“Two breaks,” he promises. 

 

“Or,” she’s back to bargaining, “you could just take me with you to the meeting.”

 

This suggestion apparently doesn’t merit a response. “I’m off,” he announces as he pecks at her cheek. “See you in a few hours.”

 

“I’ll be here,” Eleena grumbles.

 

Her absence around the ship is noteworthy, especially given the recent unaccredited rumors that she and Gaius are quasi-married.  Their relationship was already an open secret on the _Absolute_ , but this news gives it a new juicy spin as forbidden love.  Giving Eleena unacknowledged wife status also helps to smooth things among the disapproving holdouts onboard the ship.  The crew are either predisposed to like her now or at least to pretend. 

 

Plus, being Lord Malgus’ wife explains a lot about the mysterious Eleena Daru.   It explains why she lived at the space station, how she knows the dogs so well, and why she knows Jose Escriva.   It also explains her history of combat training with Lord Malgus.  Now, the original rescue mission to Ziost has a much more understandable context.  A Sith Lord doesn’t go behind enemy lines to rescue a former employee.  But rescuing your secret wife living anonymously makes sense.  And the Republic wouldn’t have a reason to arrest and interrogate some random accountant.  But they would definitely be interested in their famous foe’s wife. 

 

Why was Lord Malgus’ wife stashed on Ziost during the war?   Well, everyone explains this away by her alien species.  Darth Malgus is known to be tolerant of non-humans.   Apparently, he even married one.  But the rest of the Sith are not so broad minded.  And that’s a reason for Lady Malgus not to live with the rest of elite Sith society on Dromund Kaas.   And are the rumors that Lady Malgus was once a slave true?   Well, maybe.  And that too helps to explain all the secrecy to the crew.  Darth Malgus is flouting convention and that is very Lord Malgus the New.  Everyone knows he is his own man in all things.  Some think it ironic, some think it romantic, and some think it downright foolish.  Who is right?  Maybe all of the above.

 

The explanation that comes together is not the truth, but it all sort of hangs together and it fits everyone’s expectations.  Had the _Absolute_ ’s crew been with Lord Malgus longer than a year, the story might be less widely believed.  But none of the rank and file are privy to the rumors among the Sith elite about Lord Malgus’ upcoming marriage alliance.  And so, the lie that Darth Malgus and Eleena Daru might be secretly married is mostly believed.  

 

True to his word, Gaius makes it back for a break later that day.  Eleena eats a quick meal with him and then they toss the ball with the dogs so she can get a change of scenery.  All the while, Eleena listens intently to his talk of war.  As usual, Gaius solicits her ideas.  Eleena is his behind-the-scenes unofficial advisor, something his actual aides-de-camp are beginning to figure out.  Moreover, Gaius is listening even when he doesn’t appear to be listening.  And just because he doesn’t comment on something doesn’t mean it is forgotten.  The man’s mind is like a steel trap, plus she’s figured out that he has a photographic memory that he puts to good use. 

 

And so, it’s not a big surprise that her suggestion to join the working group sticks with Lord Malgus.  When two days later, the mission evolves to include troopers at the Temple in addition to Sith Lords, that’s just the excuse Gaius needs.  He springs Eleena from her captivity so she can sit through the planning sessions with him.  She was part of the original invasion planning group, so this isn’t that different, he decides. 

 

Still, it is a bit unorthodox when Eleena shows up one afternoon trailing behind him.  She’s suited for battle and not her usual regally dressed self.  But she’s a blue Twi’lek woman and clearly not regular military, so eyebrows raise around the room.  For cover, Lord Malgus also adds the Ziost strike team leader Lt. Commander Barker to the mix.   He introduces Barker and Eleena as members of his best special ops team.  They will be the troopers and mercenaries assisting the Sith Lords who will destroy the Jedi Temple, he announces.   The four Dark Lords who are planning the attack with him at least ostensibly accept this explanation.   

 

For his part, Gaius only gets comfortable with this arrangement because Darth Adraas is down the hall with the larger ground assault team.  Adraas has the more important command responsibility for the invasion.  That irks Gaius . . . a lot, she knows.  But it also keeps his archenemy busy.  Lord Malgus and Lord Adraas seem to have struck a detente for now.  There is too much to do and too much at stake to be distracted by their own differences.   These days, the two men pointedly ignore each other.

 

Subduing the Jedi Temple is an afterthought as far as Lord Malgus is concerned.   It was an add-on to the original mission of destroying the Republic’s famed city world.  But others clearly see it differently.  Gaius is overrun with requests from Sith Lords wanting to participate in his attack on the Temple.  Everyone with a red lightsaber apparently wants in on the action.  The original plan calls for twenty Lords plus a sizable coterie of special ops troopers.   That gets upped to forty Lords at Darth Angral’s insistence.  But I want men who follow orders and execute battle plans, Gaius privately grumbles to Eleena.  Yes, there will be plenty of Jedi to deal with, but if this turns into a free-for-all melee of Jedi and Sith, it could be chaos.  That’s a problem because like every good Sith, Darth Malgus likes order.

 

Not everyone shares his concern, however.  “Sounds like fun,” Darth Angral tells Lord Malgus when he drops by unannounced into a planning session.  Lord Angral doesn’t want to hear Gaius’ complaining.  The invasion commander smirks, “Finally, you are a popular guy, Malgus.   Show me your list of requests and I’ll give you my thoughts on who to pick.  Be sure and let Serevin give you a few names, too.  Throw that father-in-law a bone.  Oh, and it’s sixty Lords on the team now,” Angral announces much to Gaius’ consternation.

 

“This is ridiculous.  It’s overkill,” Lord Malgus glowers.

 

“I certainly hope so,” Lord Angral retorts.  “Look, if this succeeds, there won’t be any Jedi left to kill except on Alderaan.  So let’s give everyone a chance to take one down while they’re still around to hunt.”

 

“At this rate, we are going to end up dueling each other,” Malgus gripes.  “There won’t be enough Jedi for everyone to fight.”

 

“Spare me the rant on infighting,” Angral sighs.  “We all know it’s your favorite topic.  If the Lords are fighting each other because all the Jedi are dead, I’ll count it as a victory.  Now, I need a consult, Malgus.  We’re about to go over the plans to storm the Senate.  I want you to sit in and give me your thoughts.  I know I’m overlooking something.”

 

As Gaius gets beckoned away by his superior, he catches her eye and nods.  That is her signal to disappear back to his quarters.  Gaius will give her liberty so long as he can keep an eye on her in person.  But if they get separated, she must discretely disappear back into seclusion.  It lessens the chance that she will run smack into Darth Adraas again.  So, Eleena excuses herself to her ‘commanding officer’ Commander Barker and nods respectfully to the four Sith Lords in attendance.  Then, she slips away and quickly heads for the nearest elevator.  Once she’s off A-Deck and away from the bridge, she’s pretty much safely away from all the Dark Lords.

 

With the ship this crowded, elevators are in short supply.  “Coming!  Hold it, please!”  Eleena rushes to duck into a waiting lift with the door already closing.  “Thanks,” she breathes out as she looks up and right into the handsome red face of Darth Serevin.  

 

Yikes.

 

“Oh,” she exclaims. “My lord.”  Eleena drops her eyes in instant submission.  It’s still an automatic reflex when she meets men of this class other than Gaius.  Eleena remembers this guy from his visit with his wretched daughter to the space station.   Just the memory of that confrontation makes her cheeks burn with indignation.

 

“Eleena Daru.”  Serevin looks her over.  “What a surprise.”  His sarcasm is more weary than biting.  The man looks like he’s had a hard day.

 

Serevin’s fellow Sith Lord companion regards Eleena with little enthusiasm as well.   His eyes linger on the impressive weaponry hanging at her hips.  “Is this a Malgus thing?”  He raises an eyebrow and looks questioningly to Lord Serevin.  

 

“Yes.  She is a Malgus thing.”

 

“It figures.”  The human Sith Lord shakes his head in disapproval at the pureblood Lord Serevin.  “Malgus and his alien mercenaries.”

 

“She’s supposedly an accountant,” Serevin responds icily with a glare her direction.

 

“Really?”  The unknown Dark Lord looks her over in her blue and black light battle armor.   “My accountant is not so well equipped.”

 

“Oh, Malgus has many titles for her.  But he always keeps her around,” Serevin grumbles.

 

The other man is not slow on the uptake.  He gets the implication.  “Indeed?  What is he?  Some sort of Hutt now?”  The stranger Sith Lord rolls his eyes at Eleena. “Because he certainly has the head shape and physique for it.  Serevin, I hope you’re getting a generous settlement for allying yourself with that guy.  I don’t care how good he is, Malgus is beneath you.”

 

Lord Serevin seems annoyed at this topic of conversation because he reverts back to business.  “When is the next draft coming?”   The two men resume speaking now as though Eleena were not present.  And that’s typical of how Dark Lords act in front of those who they regard as lesser beings.  They treat them as invisible.  

 

“Late tonight.  The lawyers are slow.”  

“It’s a two-hundred-page peace treaty.”   Gaius’ maybe father-in-law now slants some side eye at his companion and snipes, “Your comments were extensive.  Maybe you should be a lawyer.”  

 

Sith Lords might all be on the same side, but you’d never know it from their conversation, Eleena thinks. 

 

The target of this disrespect takes it in stride.  “This is not a draft we’re presenting to the Republic. ‘Take it or leave it’ were the Emperor’s exact words.  Everything needs to be in that document because we’re going to have to abide by those terms.”

 

Lord Serevin frowns.  “With Angral’s men storming the Senate to kill Berooken, will there even be anyone with authority left alive to agree on behalf of the Republic?”

 

“Angral says he’s going to keep a contingent of Senators alive as leverage.  One of them can sign it.”

 

“What if we have to kill them all to press for surrender?”

 

“Then whoever they send to Alderaan will have to do it.”

 

“That might mean it’s some Jedi.” Darth Serevin looks troubled.

 

His companion grunts.  “Then, all the better.  The Jedi pride themselves on keeping their word.  Is this the floor for the hangar bay?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eleena steps aside to let the two men exit the elevator. She catches the words of the unknown Sith Lord as the pair stride down the hall. “You really ought to negotiate up the cash if Malgus is going to act like a damned Hutt.  Does he keep more of those tail heads around?  It’s disgusting.”

 

Eleena doesn’t catch any more of the conversation after that.  And, frankly, she’s glad for it.  She long ago became inured to scorn, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.  Truthfully, it bothers her mostly on Gaius’ behalf.   She hates that he is ridiculed for her, even if she believes him that he’s not ashamed of their relationship.   But while Gaius might not care what other Sith Lords think, other Sith Lords do care.  And that hurts Gaius’ efforts to earn their respect. 

 

It causes Eleena to seriously consider whether she is holding him back.  After the invasion, assuming the Republic surrenders, Lord Malgus is sure to get the Emperor’s attention.  He might even get Angral’s command when his boss gets promoted to governor of Coruscant and the Republic Core worlds.  And that could position Gaius for that spot on the Dark Council which he has wanted for so long.  Maybe, Eleena thinks glumly, success at Coruscant will signal that it’s time for her to step aside.  She loves Gaius and believes in his ideals for the future.  She would never want to become a hindrance for his ambitions.  There’s too much at stake for him personally and also for the Empire.  That’s why interactions like this are so troubling.  They nag at Eleena in quiet moments. 

 

Later that night, she tells Gaius about her interaction with Serevin.  She omits the insults, of course. Eleena is not looking to stir up trouble, but she’s concerned about what she heard.  Plus, she feels like Gaius should know that she ran into his future father-in-law in case he gets wind of it. 

 

“That sounds like Darth Baras,” Gaius remarks as she describes the man with Lord Serevin.  “He is the Emperor’s spymaster but he’s technically a diplomat.  He’s currently the Ambassador to Alderaan, which is how he forced his way onto Serevin’s team.”

 

“Why were they talking about a peace treaty still?” she wants to know.  Eleena doesn’t understand the context of the conversation she had overheard.  And why were those men here on the _Absolute_ where the invasion is being planned?  “What’s the point in working so hard on a document for a peace deal that you don't need?” she wonders aloud.

 

Gaius shrugs. “I suppose the ruse needs to look good.  We need to convince the Republic that we are sincere about the talks on Alderaan.  A two-hundred-page proposal sounds sufficiently sincere to me.”

 

“But you’re sure we’re still invading, right?” Eleena persists.  “Because the conversation made it sound like they expected to sign it.”

 

“Angral gave the order to amass troops just this morning.  This is happening.   Finally,” he smiles at her, “this is happening.  Operation Overlord goes live as soon as next week. Now,” he slides up beside her, “Come to bed.”

 

“Don’t you want dinner?”

 

“Dinner can wait,” he whispers huskily as he starts fondling her lekku.   And, yes, she agrees that dinner can wait.  Because their passion cannot.

 

Twenty minutes later, they are cuddling in bed in the aftermath of another wild romp.   “What has gotten into you lately,” she teases.  But Eleena knows the answer.  Gaius has been in a very positive mood lately as he plots the invasion that has been his lifelong ambition.  For a Sith Lord, he is ridiculously happy.  

 

He doesn’t deny it. “You make me feel young again.”   Despite the late and long hours, fatigue doesn’t seem to be Gaius’ problem these days.  Normally, they aren’t a sex every night kind of couple.  Lord Malgus has way too much going on for that.  But lately, it’s like he is a randy teenager.  This morning, she brought him a cup of caf and ended up bent over his desk.   

 

“It’s the invasion,” she whispers.  “All this talk of war gets you going,”

 

“I’m a Sith Lord,” he smirks.  “War makes me lusty.”  

 

“I wish I could be there with you on Coruscant,” she says softly.  Sitting in those planning meetings all day long has her wanting to participate.  

 

“It’s too dangerous.  This won’t be like a prison break on Ziost.  Everywhere you look, there will be Jedi.”

 

“You’d be there,” she points out.  

 

“Yes, and I might have my hands full.”   They don’t know how many Jedi they will find at the temple complex.  Obviously, there are many Knights off embedded with the Republic forces scattered across the galaxy.  And there will be some on Alderaan expecting to negotiate a peace deal.  But other than the younglings and the administrators, it’s unclear how many Jedi will be present during the attack.  

 

Still, Eleena thinks she can be useful.  And there will be a sizable strike team present led by Commander Barker.   “I would have your back,” she persists.  

 

“You always have my back.  I love you for that.”  He pulls her closer now.    Darth Malgus is like a big cuddly bear after sex.  It’s great.  “I want to keep you safe,” he explains, as she knew he would.  

 

“I know.  But nothing about our life is safe.   And this matters in a way those raids on Ziost didn’t.   This is Coruscant.  This is the Jedi Temple. This is the ultimate revenge of the Sith.  I want to be there at your side for it.”   His excitement of late is contagious.  Eleena feels it, too.  “This will be history in the making.”

 

He opens his mouth but she silences him with two fingers raised to his lips.  “Don’t say no,” she preempts his next objection.  “Just think about it.”  She knows he will.  This fierce Sith warrior’s Force and fighting skills might be the envy of others, but Eleena knows his most potent weapon is his keen, logical mind.  It’s second only to his heart, but very few are privileged to know that. 

 


	36. Chapter 36

Finally, he’s getting married.

 

Now that Lord Serevin is leading the diplomatic team for the pretend peace talks and Malgus is the universally acknowledged brains for the Coruscant invasion, suddenly an alliance between them looks very advantageous.  That brings Darth Serevin back to the table fast.  Better still, with Malgus’ stock rising, Lord Serevin lowers his price for the marriage settlement.  It is a shocking surprise move. 

 

Malgus’ first inclination is to accept on the spot.  But does he want this?   He asks himself that question over and over.  When he cannot decide, he asks Leena.  She always gives great advice.  Plus, he doesn’t want to make this move without her buy-in.  Things have changed, and he refuses to enter into this marriage if it will make Leena unhappy.

 

She admits to a little jealousy—which only makes him love her more—and then she argues hard for the marriage.  Leena points out how things are finally falling into place.  He might not have overall command of the Coruscant invasion, but he is being credited with the entire strategy.  This is the biggest, boldest move of the war since Korriban and it’s all attributable to him.  Now is your time, Leena argues, seize the moment.  Button up this alliance, sack Coruscant, win the galaxy for the Sith, and be the preeminent Dark Lord of your generation.  You’ll get that seat on the Council in the end, proud Leena beams at him. 

 

She’s right, of course.  But still, he has cold feet.

 

Lady Cassis means nothing to me, he assures her.  She will be my wife in name only.   She gets the name and the trappings of Lady Malgus.  But you will be my wife in my heart.   This changes nothing between us.  He vows that every way he can.  Leena will remain here with him on his ship or wherever he ends up being stationed.  And if one day he takes a seat on the Dark Council and leaves active service to administer the Empire, then he will find a way for them to live together on Dromund Kaas.  I will always take care of you, he promises.  I will do my best to protect you.  That’s when Leena points out that the more powerful and accepted he becomes in the Sith Establishment, the less risk there is to her.  If you rise high enough, no one will dare strike at you, she argues.

 

She’s right yet again.  And so, with Leena’s blessing, he and Lord Serevin reach an agreement and the lawyers finalize the marriage settlement.  Given all that is going on with both families, no one is clamoring for a rushed ceremony.  The actual wedding will be delayed until after the upcoming pretend peace talks and the invasion.  But the alliance is finalized, submitted for review to the Imperial palace, and accepted without comment.  Jose Escriva delivers an expensive set of jewelry to Lady Cassis as a token of the bridegroom’s appreciation.  She receives it with appropriate gratitude and sends an exquisitely worded thank you note.  The betrothal is then publicly announced.  All that is left is to set the date.   

 

And now, the person who gets cold feet is Leena.  She blindsides him the next night with an ominous comment over a late dinner.  “When all the dust settles after Coruscant, I want to think about us.”

 

Malgus’ eyes shift to hers. “That doesn’t sound good.”  She nods, looking a bit miserable.  And now, she really has his attention.  He puts his fork down.  “What’s wrong?”

 

Her words come out slowly at first, but they accelerate from there. “It’s just that I don’t want to hold you back.  You are on the verge of greatness.  Everyone can see that.  It’s all falling into place now.  Your vision will come true, you will get the alliance with Serevin, finally you will get the respect you deserve—“

 

“What are you saying?” he interrupts, suddenly feeling scared.  Because is she leaving him?  She can’t leave him.  He won’t allow it.

 

“I’m saying that I don’t want to impede any of that.  I don’t want to hold you back.”

 

Oh, Gods.  She is leaving him.  “You’re leaving me.”  He yelps the words out loud.

 

“I’m not worthy of you—“

 

“No!”  He pounds the table with his fist and the dishes leap.  “Do NOT say that!”  

 

He hates it when she says things like that.  But no matter how often he tries to build her up, Leena never seems to believe any of it. Or if she does, it’s not for long.  One wrong look or one harsh word from someone, and all her hard-won confidence falls away.  Leena has internalized far too many of the attitudes of others, and a year of freedom isn’t nearly enough to undo all the years she spent as a slave.  How he wishes Leena could believe in herself as much as she believes in him. 

 

She takes a deep breath and persists.  “It’s true.  I am beneath you.  And maybe that doesn’t matter to you, but it matters to others.”

 

“Who has been talking to you?”  Is this about his upcoming marriage?  Is that what’s making her insecure?

 

“The others will ridicule you for me.  It won’t just be Adraas.  I see the looks we get from the other Lords.”

 

He shrugs.  “I don’t care what people think.  And you shouldn’t either.   What’s brought this on?   Tell me.”

 

She is his stalwart cheerleader, never more so than now.  “I want you to get everything you have ever wanted.  And if that means I need to step aside to make that possible, then I will.”   Leena’s face wears a resigned but determined look.  “I don’t want that, but I will do it.  I will not be your downfall, Gaius.”

 

So this is about him?   Not about her?   Well, he can handle a few dirty looks and nasty comments.  He looks her in the eye.  “I want it all, Leena.  And that includes you.  I need you.  You don’t ever get to leave me,” he growls possessively.  But that warning quickly reverts to a plea as he reaches across the small table to intercept her hand and squeeze tightly.  “Promise me you will never leave me,” he says, searching her eyes.  He needs her love and support.  He wants their intimacy.   Leena is the one person he can count on to understand him. 

 

“Okay,” she nods, looking relieved.  “Okay.”  She repeats it like she’s still convincing herself. “I love you,” she blurts out now as she flushes.  “I love you with all my heart and I want what’s best for you.”

 

“I know,” he soothes as he exhales his relief.  Malgus flashes a crooked smirk at her. “Now, no more talk like that. You are my wife in every way that matters. And the Sith mate for life.  So, you don’t get to leave me because we don’t get to divorce.” 

 

He’s not sure that logic holds together since they aren’t actually married, but the point is that they are committed to each other.  In fact, the more he thinks it over, the more Malgus realizes that he and Leena are the embodiment of the union the Sith prize.  She might be a former slave and he might be a bit of a maverick, but they fulfill all the virtues that a Sith marriage idealizes.   “We are just like the vows promise,” he tells her. “Our passion for each other gives us strength, our strength gives us power, and that power will bring us victory.  And that’s how I will realize my potential and help the Empire to do the same.”   

 

She nods slowly.   She’s probably lost in that reference to the Sith Code.  But is she getting this?   Really getting this?   He simplifies things and omits all the doctrine:  “Leena, you make me a better man.  You are far too good for me.  But you are very good for me, all the same.”

 

It’s true.  He is so glad he found her, and he doesn’t give a damn what others think.   They will lift each other up and lean on each other.    It’s him and Leena against the galaxy.  Because if she can stand the haters, then so can he.   In the end, when the Sith trample the Republic and he gets the respect he has long deserved, men will think twice before they shame him for Leena.   “In time, the Lords will be sucking up to me.  You’ll see.  They won’t dare disrespect us.”  Those men will someday be hoping for his goodwill.  Over time, his power will insulate them from the ridicule she fears. 

 

“Oh, Gaius . . . what if you’re wrong?” she posits.  “What if your success only earns you more jealousy?  What if you are even more isolated?”

 

“I won’t be isolated if you’re with me.”

 

“I might be a lousy consolation prize,” she says pointedly.  Yet again, it’s her insecurities talking.  “You might grow to resent me.”

 

“I could never do that.”

 

“You might if I truly did hold you back.”

 

“I refuse to give you up.  I want it all,” he repeats his earlier statement.  “I want to succeed with you at my side.  Is this about the wedding?” he probes.  “Because if it’s upsetting you, I will call it off.”

 

“No,” she shakes her head.  “I won’t let you do that for me.”

 

No, he didn’t think so.    The woman who offers to give him up for his own good is not a woman who demands he sacrifice for her sake.   Leena doesn’t really demand anything for herself.  And that realization gets him thinking that he should let her participate in the invasion.  Because if he wants Leena to be happy and to gain confidence, perhaps he should let her make the decision for herself. 

 

He sits back now to watch her stoop down to offer their leftover dinner to the hounds.  Leena is so beautiful in profile like that, smiling at Ragnos with her lekku draping down.  It’s really too bad he can’t marry her for real, Malgus thinks for the umpteenth time.  She would make an excellent Lady Malgus. 

 

The next morning holds yet another surprise conversation.  Darth Adraas wants to join the temple raid.  Angral sends a preview message to that effect, probably because he wants to float the idea in advance of the inevitable in-person argument about it.  And, really, it doesn’t make much sense.  Adraas is commanding the Sith troops who will destroy the Coruscant city proper.  It’s the far larger, more important task than sacking the Temple, even if it is admittedly less glamorous.  So, Malgus sends back his one-word response:  No.

 

That prompts Darth Angral to emerge from his conference room down the hall to enter Malgus’ planning sessions.  When the senior commander of the Sith navy marches in, everyone stands to their feet except him sitting sprawled at the head of the table.  

 

“Adraas is on your team,” Angral announces in a tone that does not invite further comment.  “I’m sending him in to join you now.”

 

“Then who’s commanding the sack of the city?” Malgus counters coolly.

 

Angral names some junior, newly promoted Sith Lord. It’s a ridiculous choice, and Malgus says so.  “That guy is way too inexperienced for such an important role.   Give me the surface command,” Malgus sighs as he angles for more responsibility.  “I will swap commands with Adraas.”   It would be an upgrade actually, Malgus thinks. 

 

But Angral won’t go for it.  “Out of the question.  You are needed at the Temple.   There will be some Jedi Masters around.”

 

“You’ve got my team stuffed with sixty Dark Lords already.   They can handle it.”   At this rate, there won’t be room to swing a sword in that crowded Temple.   “Adraas can take a Jedi Master.”   And if he can’t and he dies in the process, Malgus is fine with that outcome.

 

Darth Angral holds firm. “I need you at the Temple.  You are leading the Temple raid and then coming to the Senate as my reinforcements, as planned.”

 

“This Temple raid is more for show anyway.  It’s completely optional.”   Malgus’ original plan hadn’t even dealt with the Jedi Temple specifically. It had just been one of the bombardment targets until Leena had spoken up.  He remembers now how Leena had been the reason for the entire Temple attack.  Glancing up at her sitting across the room, Malgus considers once again that perhaps she ought to be at the raid after all.

 

“The Council wants the Temple raid and you will lead it, Malgus.”  Then, Angral delivers the punchline:  “With Adraas as your second-in-command.”

 

What??  “As my second-in-command?” Malgus echoes.  Great.  This is getting worse by the moment.  “Never. I don’t trust that guy farther than I can throw him without the Force.  Praven is my second.” Malgus gestures to Angral’s most senior Apprentice who is seated on his right.  Lord Praven is good in a fight and he’s trustworthy, unlike Adraas.

 

“Praven is with me now at the Senate,” Angral informs him.  He beckons away his Apprentice.  Then he adds the names of three more junior Sith Lords to the roster of Dark Lords fighting at the Temple.  All of whom heretofore were to be fighting with Adraas on the city surface.  So, really, Malgus is now taking on both his archenemy and his posse of cronies. 

 

“Did Adraas tick off Azamin again?” Malgus wants know.  “Is that what this is about?  Why are we shuffling everyone around now?”  This just smacks of behind-the-scenes politics with Dark Lords jockeying for position and undermining their rivals.  And being an enemy of Darth Adraas himself, Malgus would very much like to know how he got himself demoted.  “Are you going to change this all back tomorrow?” he complains.  “It’s getting a little late in the game for this sort of thing.”

 

“These are the final edits to the battle plan,” Lord Angral decrees.  “The operation goes live in forty-eight hours by the Emperor’s own order.  Serevin leaves this evening with the peace delegation for Alderaan.  We’re all jumping with him to stage there for the invasion.  Malgus,” he gets an approving nod from his superior, “This is happening.  Gather your troops, summon your Lords, and stoke your Darkness.  In two days’ time, the Republic capital world will fall.”  With that resounding call to arms, Lord Angral sweeps from the room with his Apprentice Lord Praven sheepishly following.

 

The ensuing two days pass quickly.  Malgus spends his remaining time preparing his men and preparing his mind.  He hones his Dark power in meditation, ruminating on confrontations of the past that will culminate very soon on Coruscant.  The anticipation swells within him, for his sense of destiny is building.  This is the ultimate victory that the Force teased him with years ago on Korriban.  

He has foreseen the fall of the Republic.  Now, he will make that vision a reality.  

 

The night beforehand, he cleans his lightsabers.  It’s a ritual he’s done before every major battle since he was an Apprentice.  He always takes two swords even though he prefers to fight with one.  You never know when you will need an extra weapon.  Darth Malgus has spent decades at war and so he knows to expect the unexpected and to prepare for the worst.  Combat is notoriously unpredictable.  He is a veteran campaigner and he’s seen his share of miscalculations and defeats.

 

Leena is across the room in his closet assembling his battle armor to lay it out with his clothes and boots.  Glancing over at her, Malgus makes a decision that he has been considering for days.  “Lay out your own armor also.  Leena, I want you to come with me for the Temple attack.”  

 

“Really?”  She’s surprised.  Excited too, he sees.

 

“Yes.  You will stick close to me the entire time.  You’re with me, not with the regular strike team tomorrow.”  He will keep Leena with him where he can keep an eye on her.  “Bring your guns,” he instructs.  “Let’s clean them.”  And now, Leena too participates in his pre-battle ritual as they sit and clean her blasters.  Then, they check and double check her gear.  Malgus leaves nothing to chance for Leena or for himself. 

 

Late that same night when she cuddles up and begins kissing his neck and heading lower, Malgus gently turns her down.  He wants to be as on edge as possible tomorrow, he explains, with his maximum competitive drive and aggression.  But when he returns a conquering hero from Coruscant, he fully intends to fuck Leena senseless.  Together, they will celebrate their historic victory in private.  Then, he will get to work plotting for the spoils of war and angling for his next career move.  Maybe he will get that Council spot eventually.  With Leena at his side, lately anything feels possible.

 

 It’s mere hours later when he and Leena have snuck onto Coruscant.  They are on foot as they make their way to the Jedi Temple during waning twilight.  The wide square they walk through is bustling with pedestrians of all species, so he and Leena blend in.  In the Republic, a mixed species couple like them is not particularly noteworthy, so they don’t even merit looks.  Malgus has his hood drawn up and his cloak pulled close to mask his heavy armor underneath.  Leena too wears a cloak to hide her holsters and weaponry.  But others around them are similarly attired in the early evening chill.  There is nothing outwardly nefarious about them by comparison.

 

Their disguise is more than merely physical.  Malgus focuses his mind to conceal his presence in the Force.  It’s an old trick he seldom bothers to use in combat.  But today, it is imperative that he maintain the element of surprise.  Besides, it feels fitting.  Bold stealth has long been a hallmark of the Sith.   Today’s invasion will continue that tradition. 

 

Darth Malgus won’t be the only secret Sith Lord to walk the streets of Coruscant undetected as he plots the Republic’s downfall.  But he will be the first. 

 

“Wow . . .  It’s as beautiful here as everyone says,” Leena remarks as she looks around.

 

Malgus has to agree.  They don’t call Coruscant the bright center of the universe for nothing.  And here, on its uppermost level where the fading sunset sky meets the soaring spires of the metropolis, there is a sense of grandeur and accomplishment.  But beauty, they say, is fleeting.  And so shall it be with Coruscant.  “It won’t be beautiful for very much longer,” Malgus says with grim satisfaction. 

 

The scene around them is mundane and casually happy.  Music wafts over from some nearby street performers, and a colorfully lit fountain splashes.  There are sounds of conversation and laughter, even the high-pitched chatter of children.  No one here suspects that there is an armada of invaders about to emerge from hyperspace into Coruscant’s orbit.   These people believe they are safe from the galactic civil war that rages many lightyears away.  But they’re wrong.  Ten minutes from now, life for these citizens will forever change.  

 

The sense of anticipation is killing him.  Malgus can’t wait to do this.  His heart is racing and his adrenaline is pumping.

 

At his side, Leena is nervous.  “Can you tell how many are here?” she asks under her breath. 

 

“A lot.  At least fifty,” he guesses as he concentrates harder.  The presence in the Force of so many Jedi so close and so concentrated is a blinding glare to his mind.  It irritates and grates.   

 

“Seven minutes,” Leena whispers.   They both know that timing for this mission must be perfect.   “Two minutes until the transport reverts.  Five minutes for the rest of the fleet to arrive,” she reports.  

 

He nods.  Both their eyes flash upwards now.  Sure enough, the regular local police patrol vehicle streaks by overhead on schedule as expected.  It won’t circle back for another ten minutes and by then, it will be too late to shoot down the incoming transport stuffed with Dark Lords that will meet them for the battle.  

 

His comlink now blinks with the prearranged signal from the mercenaries.  “The grid is down,” he relays the good news to Leena.  Everything is proceeding as planned.

 

They come to a halt now at the far end of the square that abuts the steps to the majestic Jedi Temple.   The sacred ground for the Light is fittingly illuminated.  In fact, everything about this place assaults his senses.  From the bright lights he sees to the Light that floods his mind’s eye, Malgus feels very out of place.  He is a Lord of the Sith, a prince of Darkness, the ultimate interloper.  And he’s about to calmly walk into his enemy’s stronghold to burn it down.   The significance of this moment arrests him.  

 

The Force pricks at his mind, too.  Warning of deadly danger.  Of imminent change.  Of victory to come.  Of loss, as well.  He last sensed this foreboding feeling on Korriban many years ago.  Darth Malgus the New began his career at the outset of this war and today he will see the conquest of the galaxy finally achieved. One thing is for certain:  after what he’s about to do, nothing will ever be the same. 

 

He turns to Leena, reaching up to cup her cheek.  Here in the Republic, he doesn’t care who sees them in public.  “I’m glad you’re here.  Today destiny foretold will become destiny fulfilled.”   This is his long-ago vision come to fruition.  The collapse of the Republic and the final victory of the Sith.  Darkness is rising, and today it will snuff out Light in the galaxy.

 

But staring into her hopeful, trusting eyes, he knows this bold attack is not without risk.  “If I die today—“ he begins.

 

“Don't talk like that!” she hisses.

 

“There could be no better way to die than with a sword in my hand leading an attack on the Jedi Temple,” he chides with a fatalism that is intrinsically Sith.   “But who knows what will happen?”   He’s a realist in this, like in everything else.  “They will all be gunning for me.”  He’s the Sith Lord who the entire Republic loves to hate.

 

“Gaius—“

 

“None of us is invincible.  Not even Darth Vitiate.  So, listen to me.  If I die, Jose will provide for you. Take the credits.  Go on with your life and be happy.”

 

Leena looks angry at his words.  “I don't want your money, I want you.”

 

“I know,” he concedes.  “But I can't promise you anything, not even that I will survive today.”   All he can offer her is love.  But that love is as stalwart and committed as Darth Malgus himself.  He is a man who does nothing by half measures.  “If I could, I would give you everything.   You know that, right?”  He searches her eyes for understanding.

 

“This is enough,” she replies softly.  “It is enough to be loved by you and to be with you today on the most important day of your life.”  She reaches up to cover his gloved hand with her own.   Her face is lovely in the fading sunlight.  “I know what today means to you,” she whispers. 

 

Yes, he can see that she does.  And it’s no surprise.  This woman has always understood him.  From the beginning, despite their disparate backgrounds, he and Eleena Daru had an instant rapport.  “I love you,” he rasps.  “Whatever happens, remember that.”

 

She looks away anxiously, but brushes off his concerns.  “Stop being negative. We're going to win.  Come,” she turns back to him sporting a wide smile of faked confidence, “Let's go and kill some Jedi.”

 

Her gallantry makes him smile.  Malgus checks the time.  She’s right.  They need to keep moving.  Together, they begin to climb the four flights of steps that lead up to the massive Temple complex.  It requires them to weave through a small crowd.  The Temple steps are a gathering place on the edge of the plaza.  Groups of young people huddle there laughing and talking.  Others people stand alone clearly waiting to meet up with someone.  He and Leena simply walk past all of that, unnoticed among the throng of citizens.

 

“Remember what I told you,” Malgus rumbles.  “Stay behind me and let me handle any Jedi Masters.” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“If this goes badly, I want you to retreat with the others.”

 

“I’m not leaving you.”

 

“You must.  That’s an order.”

 

Leena doesn’t argue further.  She just changes the topic.  It’s a strategy that is very her.  “Look,” she gestures with her head up towards the top of the ancient edifice, “There’s the strike team in place.”  From three speeders hovering overhead, Commander Barker and his special ops troopers begin to drop in pairs onto the Temple roof.  So far, at least, they go unnoticed.  The Sith troopers will infiltrate the premises from above through several maintenance hatches once the ship carrying the Dark Lords makes its big entrance.

 

“Good.  Four hostiles at the entrance,” Malgus references the bored looking Republic guards standing near the top of the steps.  “Also two on the left and two more on the right.”  It’s just as they anticipated.  But those guys are the least of his worries.  The real threat are the Jedi inside. 

 

Two more flights of steps to go.  Malgus pauses on the stair landing.  “One last thing—“

 

“Yes?” she turns to him anxiously. 

 

“Kiss me,” he commands on impulse. 

 

“Okay.” Leena is still very jumpy.  “Are you sure?” she squeaks.  “It’s not in the plan.”

 

“Kiss me.”  Darth Malgus will profane this sacred place with passion before he destroys it with aggression.  Soon, these preachy priests of the Light will behold the awesome power of the Dark Side.  They will be confronted with everything that is forbidden to them. 

 

He throws back his hood, she throws back her hood.  He and Leena stand intertwined for a brief moment before they part.   They are interrupted when his watch starts beeping to alert them to the ninety second mark.  It’s under two minutes now until the transport arrives with their reinforcements.

 

“Let’s do this,” he nods.   That’s Leena’s cue to shrug out of her long cloak.  It drops to the pavement, revealing the pair of blasters at her hips and her other battle paraphernalia. 

 

“Put your mask on,” she warns as they resume walking.  “It’s smoggy here.”  

 

He complies, reaching to snap the removable respirator into the neck of his armor.   Then, with a flick of his wrist, he pulls up his hood.  He plans to look like a proper Sith Lord when he storms this hallowed ground. 

 

It is nightfall now.  With his saber hilt in his hand and his beloved at his back, Darth Malgus slowly climbs the final flight of steps and walks into the history books.   This is the moment when the man becomes the legend.  There will be other Dark Lords to march into a Jedi Temple for slaughter, but Darth Malgus the New is the original who sets the benchmark for revenge of the Sith. 

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

As they reach the top of the steps, Eleena and Gaius immediately catch the attention of the four Republic guards standing sentry at the Temple entrance.  The men step forward with guns drawn and one orders, "Halt!"  His command draws over two more pairs of guards to investigate.  “Halt!” the man calls again.  But Gaius doesn’t bother to answer.

 

Eleena knows what's coming next.  Lord Malgus simply stands in silence and waits for all eight guards to come to him.  It's a favorite tactic of the Sith's leading strategist:  Darth Malgus tends to let others be the initial aggressor.   He waits patiently for the men to surround them in a semi-circle.  Then he lights his sword.  With a few efficient slashes and a hard Force push to the right, Gaius takes all eight men out in a blink of an eye.  None of the guards even gets off a shot.

 

Then, Darth Malgus turns off his sword and resumes walking. 

 

Unopposed for now, they make their way into the Temple down the long, wide center aisle that bisects a grand, multi-story colonnade.  The violent death of eight men on the Jedi’s doorstep will not go unnoticed.  Eleena knows that the Knights inside will sense the men’s passing in the Force.  And by now, Darth Malgus’ own use of the Dark Side will have blown his cover.  The enemy will know that a Sith Lord is in their midst.

 

Sure enough, Jedi come running.  On the darkened balconies above, Eleena senses movement and hears footsteps.  Are those Jedi?  Yes.  From high above, Knights begin to drop one by one to the floor and ignite their sabers.  They do not attack, but their posture is hostile.  Others rush up from the far end of the Temple with sabers drawn.  In the lead stalks a tall, blonde human man with a very serious expression.   It’s clear he is the one in charge.  He must be a warrior type because he, like several of the others, wears armor beneath his brown cloak. 

 

Eleena is the wary one who keeps looking around nervously.  Gaius does not react to any of this.  He just keeps walking and facing front. 

 

He keeps a slow, steady pace.  Darth Malgus is not a man who hurries.  He figured out long ago that others hurry on behalf of powerful men, and not the other way around.  Plus, this is his style.  Gaius is not a preening, bombastic leader.  He is measured and strategic.  But he is bold.  Very bold in his understated way.  It makes him especially intimidating, Eleena thinks.  So it is fitting that he planned to march alone into the Jedi Temple for this attack.  The fact that she is here to accompany him is purely an afterthought. 

 

Looking around at all the menacing blue and green swords, it unnerves her a bit that Gaius still hasn’t lit his own weapon.  But Eleena knows his posture to be a subtle challenge to his opponents.  Will they use the Force only for knowledge and defense, and not for attack?  Darth Malgus always enjoys flummoxing the Jedi with the limitations of their own dogma.

 

His heavy footsteps echo with hers in the high ceilinged, mostly stone chamber.  The sound is a quiet, steady drumbeat above the low hum of enemy sabers.  But it might as well be a glaring war cry.  For Darth Malgus has come for a day of reckoning.  The eight bodies outside the door are but a hint of the carnage to come. 

 

In the distance, Eleena now hears muffled blaster fire.  The strike team is in the building and their portion of the assault has begun.  It prompts the tall Jedi Master walking opposite them to stop and order some of his companions to investigate.  And rather than continue walking, the lead Knight simply stands his ground and lets Malgus and Eleena come to him.  The Jedi Master hasn’t lit his sword yet either, Eleena notes.

 

Gaius stops a mere five meters from his counterpart.  The air is thick with tension as the two men eye one another.  “Jedi,” Lord Malgus acknowledges to his foe.

 

“Sith,” the man responds quietly.  “I have foreseen this.”

 

“Then you know that you will die today,” Darth Malgus responds.  He glances around at the other defenders of the Temple.  “All of you will die today.”

 

“You can’t win,” the Jedi shakes his head.  “We have the high ground and we have you surrounded.”

 

“Do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side,” Lord Malgus chides.  Like his foe, Gaius’ voice is quiet but intense.  “Our time has come,” he proclaims softly.   “For three hundred years, we prepared.  We grew stronger.  All for this moment.  While you rested in your cradle of power, believing your people were safe and protected, we plotted.  Now, you will witness the full power of the Empire as we destroy your capital world.”  Gaius stares his counterpart down as he announces, “Today your Republic shall fall.”

 

“No.”  The unknown Jedi Master will not be intimidated.   His expression is skeptical and less than impressed by this speech.   “I have foreseen this day,” he counters.  “What you do here means nothing.  In the end, we shall have peace.”

 

“You deceive yourself.  Peace is a lie,” Darth Malgus responds with complete confidence.  For he has no doubt in the supremacy of the Shadow Force and its teachings.   “The peace summit on Alderaan is a lie,” he reveals. 

 

“The Force never lies,” the Jedi Master is equally certain.  “In the end, we shall have peace.   You will not win.”

 

Lord Malgus digs in.  “I too have foreseen this day.   The Force is with us.  Your Republic will fall and the Sith will the rule the galaxy.”

 

“Not today, they won’t.”  The Jedi Master refuses to believe it. 

 

Each man is convinced of his position, each man is committed to the teachings of his religion and way of life, and neither will back down.  Could they both be right?  Eleena wonders.

 

Lord Malgus’ comlink buzzes now with the prearranged warning signal.  Eleena knows what’s coming next, but the Jedi do not.  She and Gaius stand their ground as the drop ship personnel transport arrives right on schedule.  The spacecraft crashes dramatically through the entrance to the Temple, sending debris flying in all directions as it creates a gaping hole in the ancient edifice.  The ship hurtles forward to finally come to a rest ten meters behind where they stand.  

 

The assembled Jedi run for cover from the incoming ship.  All except the tall blonde Jedi Master who’s opposite Gaius.  The man stands his ground and does not flinch through the entire episode.  That bravado earns him a slight nod of respect from Lord Malgus. 

 

In the aftermath, the air is thick with dust and the acrid smell of smoldering electronics.  Small fires burn here and there set from the sparks caused by metal scraping stone.  There is rubble strewn everywhere in the half-ruined, still crumbling building.  And now, more and more faces appear in the shadowy Temple mezzanine.  Again and again, Eleena hears the sounds of sabers she can’t see igniting. 

 

The crashed ship now opens to deploy its occupants.  Inside at the forefront stands Darth Adraas in his helmet and battle armor.  He lights his sword.  Then, the whole legion of Dark Lords behind him light their red weapons one by one.  It is an army of Sith warlords, sixty men strong, standing still in menacing silence. 

 

Each side sizes the other up in a brief standoff.  Silence reigns for a few more heartbeats. 

 

Darth Malgus breaks it.  "Wipe them out.  All of them," he orders no quarter with grim satisfaction.  And thus begins the destruction of the Jedi Order, the age old enemy of the Lords of the Sith.

 

With Darth Adraas in the lead, the Sith attack in a swarm of men pouring out from the drop ship.  Simultaneously, Jedi emerge from the shadows to meet them.  Others leap down from the colonnade high above.   Newcomers rush in from open doorways as well, drawn by the sight and sound of the crashed starship.  Everywhere red blades clash with blue, green, and even yellow lightsabers.  The buzz and hum of so many swords in an echoing space is deafening.  This battle is loud.

 

Lord Malgus immediately gets to work.  He unleashes a barrage of swings at his Jedi counterpart.  But his foe meets his every move easily.   Whoever this Jedi Master is, he’s far more skilled than the usual Knight.  Darth Malgus has been known to overwhelm other Jedi with just a few saber passes.  But not this guy. 

 

Positioned behind Malgus, Eleena starts firing.  With the Jedi and Sith mostly matched up in dueling pairs, she and the strike team members start sniping at Knights.  Commander Barker and his troopers fire down from overhead.  Eleena is one of only a few non-Force users fighting on the ground.   That’s a dangerous position to be in.  The melee becomes a vicious firefight of plasma bolts flying.  Shots ricochet off stone and deflect off swords every direction.   Thankfully, Eleena is behind Lord Malgus and everyone knows not to interfere with his duel.  That means no one is firing at the Jedi she’s nearest. 

 

The strike team strategy is tried and true from past battles.  Once more, it works well.  The Jedi must keep focused on their Sith opponents while Eleena and others keep firing deadly distractions their way.  Time and again, the blaster shots provide just the split-second opening needed for the Sith duelists to prevail.  Sometimes the blaster shots hit home first to disable the Jedi, and sometimes the distraction is sufficient for the Sith Lord to strike true.   But one by one, Jedi begin to fall.  The occasional Dark Lord falls too.  But clearly, the Temple’s defenders are mostly the inexperienced young and the old retirees. The Jedi in their prime must be off on other assignments.   For even to Eleena’s untrained eye, some of these Knights seem quite rusty, maybe even clumsy, with their swords.   Those ones are the first to die.

 

As he expected, Gaius is everyone’s target.  That means other Jedi keep trying to interfere with his fight.  As these Knights approach running or leaping for the attack, Lord Malgus simply throws them behind him with the Force.  That’s her cue to drill them one by one as they fly by through the air.  This is how she and Gaius have fought together many times:  he presents the target with the help of the Force and she takes the shot.  They are a one-two punch of lethal precision honed by much practice and plenty of actual combat.  Eleena does this facing away and standing in his wake.  She long ago became accustomed to the close buzz and swipe of her Sith Lord’s sword.  She trusts Gaius implicitly now not to hurt her.  They fight back to back as he does his thing and she does hers. 

 

Until suddenly, he’s not behind her anymore.  He’s in front of her.  How did that happen?  And whoops!  Eleena dives to the left to avoid a deflected blaster bolt.  Suddenly, she’s exposed and on her own in the open and that’s not good.  Eleena scrambles to find cover fast.  She ducks behind one of the giant colonnade pillars.  From there, she watches as Gaius and the Jedi Master struggle for dominance. 

 

This duel is very physical. Gaius fights with his body as much as with his sword and the Force.  He lands vicious kicks and even physical punches with his huge, meaty gloved fist.  It makes this fight seem far more personal than the others Eleena has witnessed.  The Force augments his movements, adding to his considerable physical strength.  Today Lord Malgus is a juggernaut of Darkness, every bit the vengeful Sith Lord the Jedi expect.  Next to him, all the other men in black with red swords pale by comparison. 

 

Darth Malgus has long been a paradox to his fellow Sith: he is a staunch proponent of the Empire’s superiority, a man truly committed to Darkness, who also questions some of his culture’s most defining values.  But for all his unorthodox views and atypical background, no one faults Darth Malgus’ fighting prowess.  Heretofore, Eleena has only seen him take on an occasional Jedi they stumbled upon during a raid on Ziost.  Never once has she seen him called to break a sweat in the effort.  But today is different, and she sees a different man.  This is the legendary duelist who inspires admiration and fear.  Here is the man whose name is synonymous with Dark mastery.  He is every bit as brutal and ruthless to his enemies as his reputation promises.   Battles like this are why Lord Malgus is public enemy number one for the Galactic Republic.  

 

But the Jedi Master is relentless.  Gaius throws his opponent hard into a pile of rubble, but as he rushes to impale him, the Jedi returns the hit and now Gaius is the one sailing through the air.  Gaius recovers quickly and he leaps back again to attack.  This is a very acrobatic style of combat Eleena has never seen before.  The sheer effort involved takes her breath away.  How is it possible that mere humans can move like this?  And so fast, too?   And it’s all taking place amidst an ongoing crowded, chaotic battle.

 

As Eleena watches, a sneaking suspicion arises within her.  What if Gaius were to lose?  This Jedi Master is formidable.  She has never seen Gaius fight this long with an opponent before.  It is worrisome.

 

She, however, is sitting pretty in as safe a spot as she can be right now.  Eleena is off to the side away from the fight but smack in the middle of the great hall of the Temple.  She makes good use of her strategic position, shooting at Jedi and then darting back behind the pillar for cover.  The stone column is so massive that the one or two deflected shots that come back at her merely embed in it as scorch marks.  

 

Still, she keeps one eye on Gaius the whole time.  He’s her main concern.  He’s throwing Force lightning at the Jedi Master now, but it keeps being deflected.  Eleena has watched Gaius go through trick after trick in his arsenal of battle tactics, even throwing his saber once.  But the agile Jedi Master keeps fighting.  Neither man has the upper hand yet, and neither seems to have suffered any real damage.  They seem evenly matched.

 

Their bold moves drive their duel farther away from the main group.  Steadily, they keep moving back towards the ruins of the Temple entrance.  Now they are swinging their swords fast and hard as they both teeter atop the crashed drop ship.  It’s a test of speed and balance, like a dance of death high above the rest of the battle.  Eleena is getting more fearful by the moment as she sees the Jedi Master swing hard for Gaius’ head.  He rears back and disappears off the aft end of the wreckage.  Has he been hit?  That fear coaxes Eleena out from behind her secure post.   She starts darting from pillar to pillar as she makes her way away from the main conflict and towards Gaius. 

 

He’s alive, she sees, and still unharmed.  In fact, he’s shooting Force lightning again.  If she can just get a clear shot, Eleena thinks, maybe she can help him.  But they are back to whipping their swords around and leaping over one another.  It’s all so quick that her eyes register only a blur of red and green.  That makes it far too dangerous to intervene right now.  So, Eleena bides her time.  The rest of the battle is forgotten as she focuses on Lord Malgus.  She has crept out from behind her pillar now to take cover amid the chunks of debris that litter the area.  Cautiously, she keeps advancing closer to the fast-moving pair.

 

Then, the Jedi Master lands a kick to his opponent’s arm.  It sends Gaius’ lightsaber sailing from his grip and knocks him off balance.   He rights himself fast and now he is bobbing and weaving unarmed against the Jedi Master’s lethal green sword.  Very concerned, Eleena now starts actively tracking the Jedi with her guns.  But wait for it . . . wait for it, she disciplines herself.  ‘A rushed shot is a miss,’ she mouths Commander Barker’s favorite words.  Wait for it . . . now!

 

Eleena sees her opening and takes the shot, pumping off a round from each pistol.  She aims squarely for the Jedi Master’s armored chest.  She figures at best she will disable him, at worst she will distract him so Gaius can call his sword back to his hand.  But she figures wrongly.  This Jedi Master has reflexes every bit as quick as Gaius’.  The moment she fires, the Jedi moves to deflect the shot with his sword.  That’s Gaius’ opening, but he hesitates as he whips his head around to watch the deflected blaster bolts slam back into her. 

 

It all happens in a split second. 

 

One shot grazes her right side but the other nails her right shoulder.  It’s a hard hit. The intensity of the plasma bolt slams her down as its energy radiates through her armor.   But before she hits the ground, Eleena is picked up by the Force and slammed into one of the Temple pillars back behind the drop ship wreckage.  Her armor absorbs some of the impact, but her neck wrenches painfully as her head cracks against the stone.  Eleena’s vision grows dim as she slides down the pillar to crumple in a heap.  She is dazed and in excruciating pain.

 

She must temporarily black out because when her vision clears she can make out Gaius standing at the very back of the Temple in the gaping hole where the ship crashed through.  He is silhouetted against the flaming Coruscant cityscape as he impales the Jedi Master with his now regained lightsaber.  As the dying Jedi falls to his knees, Malgus yanks out his sword and savagely kicks him in the face.  Then, he starts striding fast for her.

 

It brings him back into the mayhem of the main battle arena.  And, once again, Gaius becomes everyone’s target.  He tosses would be attackers away with the Force but more keep coming.  Ultimately, he is forced to engage with several others.  Eleena lays panting and hurting as she watches him fight.   At least she’s confident that Gaius will survive now that fierce Jedi Master is dead.

 

As always, Lord Malgus’ strategy is speed.  ‘Get in and get out’ isn’t his default tactic for nothing.  With the help of the Force, this towering, thickset warrior is shockingly nimble and quick.  His sword moves so fast that it is a red smear to the eye, a crimson blur that dazzles.  Gaius stabs, slashes, and cuts so fast that these lesser Jedi find it hard to engage with him.  She watches as he approaches opponent after opponent, cutting several down immediately.  Most don’t even manage to muster a defense and some fail to even intercept his sword once.    

 

The waning battle has turned extremely grisly.  Eleena winces as a severed hand still holding a saber hilt lands nearby and skids to a half a meter away.  A body previously thrown into the pillar that she herself hit is lying face down to her left with blood pooling beneath it.  Everywhere, there is bloodshed.  Jedi and Sith, male and female, young and old.  People are mutilated, bleeding, bruised, dying, and dead.  And it keeps going.  

 

She knows Gaius would say that this is necessary.   That this is war, and he will do what he must.  That the ends justify the means and mercy will only prolong the conflict.  It’s best to win decisively at the outset.  But watching him fight, his face a mask of concentration, she sees how much Gaius enjoys this.  He is in his element.  The violence thrills him.  She catches sight of his expression now as he slices an adversary in two, cleaving the Jedi’s body cleanly in half.  Eleena knows that look.  It is a look of pleasure.   Malgus has the same look on his face when he kills as he does in her arms.  It is very disconcerting.  

 

Eleena herself takes no pride in today’s carnage.  But she accepts it.  Maybe once the Republic surrenders, the rebuilding and healing can begin, and the galaxy can move forward with order and unity.  Then, things will be better for everyone.  But until then, this bitter, bloody war will reign. 

 

With their Jedi Master leader dead, the remaining Light Side Knights seem to falter.  And now that Lord Malgus is back in the fray cutting them down left and right, the remaining defenders fall into disarray.  What began as a fairly even numbered match has evolved into a clear advantage for the Sith.  After that, things move quickly to a rout.  The Sith take on the Jedi defenders two- and even three-to-one.  Because all’s fair in war when you’re a Sith Lord.  The only goal is to win. 

 

The battle is winding down.  By now, many of the Dark Lords are simply standing around.  Lord Adraas orders them to split off from the main group to head to the outlying portions of the Temple.  These are the dormitories where the Jedi younglings reside.  No one gets to escape today, not even the youngest.  


Defending the Temple is clearly a lost cause.  But still, Jedi keep engaging Gaius.  Because apparently the surviving Knights all want to take their last stand as martyrs for the cause against Darth Malgus.  Finally, Gaius makes it to her side where she lies awkwardly attempting to apply pressure to her shoulder.  A Sith Lord Eleena doesn’t recognize stands sentry over for them as cover.  It’s probably unnecessary since the battle is over.  Already, Eleena can hear Lord Adraas checking on the status of incoming transports to ferry the Lords over to the Senate.  She overhears a trooper report that a medical transport is on its way.  She takes heart at this welcome news.

 

“How bad is it?  Let me see,” Gaius commands as he kneels to brush her bloody hand away.  He reaches for her charred and melted shoulder and chest armor plates to lift them away roughly.  Then, he tears back the fabric of her jumpsuit to expose the wound.  Eleena winces and cries out as it pulls at her injured flesh.  It doesn’t deter him.  Lord Malgus wants to assess the situation for himself.

 

He grimaces at what he sees.  Lord Malgus is a veteran of many combat wounds and he sizes things up with an experienced eye.  “The armor diffused it some. Otherwise, you’d be dead.  But this needs bacta fast so it will clot.”  He hollers over his shoulder now.  “Trooper!  We need a patch!  NOW!”  

 

Gaius commandeers five bacta patches from the trauma kit a nearby trooper has opened.  He tears into the supplies and gets to work.  “At least you’re not in shock.  The shoulder is the key wound.  That graze on your side is nothing.”  Gaius places a sticky, gooey bacta patch on the front and back of each injury and stuffs the fifth patch in her hand.   He eyes the shoulder flashburn warily and frowns.  “When this one soaks through with blood, replace it immediately.  Bacta works best if it is administered fast.  Ignore your side for now.  Come, let’s get you up.”  Gaius doesn’t sugarcoat things.  He never does.  As he reaches for her, he announces, “This is going to hurt.  A lot.  But I want to get you in my transport so I can get you up to the medical frigate before I head for the Senate.”

 

“No—Go!” she rasps through the pain as she is hauled to her feet. “Go!  Leave me!  I’ll wait for the medical transport with the rest of the wounded.”  She refuses to slow him down today of all days.  This is his finest hour.  His greatest victory.  But as if to belie her words, Eleena sags heavily against Gaius.  Standing upright has suddenly made her feel dizzy and weak.  They are in public, but she’s face first into his sweaty armor clinging to him in a quasi-embrace.

 

He speaks low into her ear.  “I won’t leave you.  Once I know you’re okay, I will rejoin the others.”

 

“Go!”   She grits her teeth and pulls back.  “I will be fine.  The armor took the brunt.”  He looks unconvinced but she persists.   Her adrenaline is still racing and it causes her words to come out fast and vehement.  “Go enjoy your moment of triumph.  This is your victory.  You did this.  When no one else thought it was possible.   Go!” she insists. 

 

“That can wait—"

 

“No!  You are a leader.  Go lead!”   Eleena refuses to allow him to divert his focus because of her.  “This will be a day long remembered.  It has seen the end of the Jedi, it will soon see the end of the Republic.  Your vision will come true.  Be a part of it.”  Gaius has longed for this moment for decades, she knows.  The Force is with him. 

 

He’s about to argue some more when they are interrupted.  “Well, this is a touching scene.  Only Malgus would be so weak for an alien whore that he brings her into battle with him.”

 

It’s Darth Adraas doing what he does best:  get under Gaius’ skin.   But as usual, Darth Malgus refuses to be easily baited.  “It’s a pity you’re not dead,” he retorts to his second-in-command.  Then, Gaius scoops her up with that Force-assisted, superhuman strength of his.  He starts striding towards the Temple entrance as Adraas and a few other subordinate commanders tag along. 

 

“The transports have landed on the plaza.  It’s time to move on,” a voice informs them.

 

Another man speaks up, “Agreed.  Angral reports they have encountered unexpected resistance.  He needs our help at the Senate now.  He’s calling for reinforcements as soon as possible.”

 

“We’ll leave soon,” Malgus replies.

 

“We should have left five minutes ago,” the first voice complains.

 

Adraas piles on, “Yes, well, apparently a temple full of Jedi can’t slow down Malgus, but this blue bitch can.”  He scowls openly at her. 

 

“Did Angral say the Republic suspected we were coming?” Malgus asks.  Eleena knows he is thinking of the Jedi Master who claimed to have foreseen today.

 

“No.  But they were plenty prepared just in case,” the second man answers.  “There were no Republic troopers here because they are all over at the Senate.  Angral needs help.”

 

“What’s the hold up?” a new Lord joins the group just as Gaius sets her down.  They are at the Temple steps now where the other Sith wounded are gathering to be picked up.  Eleena joins them on the ground propped up against the wall.  Some are in far worse shape than she is, Eleena notes.

 

“What’s going on?” the newcomer complains again.  “What’s the hold up?”

 

“Malgus is bewitched by his slave woman,” Adraas drawls. 

 

Ignoring this, Gaius issues orders to have all the surviving Sith Lords get on a transport.   Then he issues instructions to have troopers lay explosive charges to implode the remains of the Temple once the operation is complete.  “I want this place reduced to rubble,” he says emphatically.  “Loot it and then destroy it completely,” he decrees.

 

Then, Gaius turns back to her, looking her over with concern.  “Angral needs me.  But I’ll stay until I get you on the medical transport.  It’s coming now.”

 

Adraas rolls his eyes at this.  “Malgus, you are so pathetic.  Angral will be sure to hear about this.”

 

Eleena sees Gaius’ jaw tighten at this remark and she knows his rival has scored a hit. 

 

She recognizes the underlying misogyny at work here.  Adraas’ jabs are just another version of the time-honored theme that women are a source of weakness for men.  Long ago, they created sin and besmirched mankind with their wanton lure.  And since Eleena is an alien, she has an exotic freakishness to her allure.  That she is a common species of slave just adds to her contemptuousness.  It puts an overlay of racism to the hate.  And while Eleena might wish to chalk that up to the prejudice of the Sith elite, she knows that attitude permeates the Republic as well. The Sith have no bragging rights to narrow mindedness.  That mindset stubbornly persists everywhere.

 

But she is the focus of it now.  Such a novelty it is that fierce Lord Malgus cares for a woman such as her.   It provides the perfect opening for Adraas to ridicule him.  He could never beat Gaius with a sword, so he engages with words instead.  But Adraas is not the only one who feels this way, she knows.  Eleena hates that she brings this public shame down upon him.  Gaius has warned repeatedly of the risks to her from their relationship, but only recently has she come to appreciate the downsides to him.   And right now, numb from extreme pain, Eleena just wants this ugly scene to end.

 

“I’m fine,” she hisses up at Gaius as she looks out past the Temple plaza.   The Coruscant night sky is lit with laser fire like a pyrotechnic display.  The firefight in the upper atmosphere must be fierce.  But it has not impeded the bombardment, since a red haze now colors the horizon.  It is a Hellish testament to the once-beautiful, now-blazing capital of the Republic.  Gazing out at the tableaux of destruction, Eleena can only think of Ziost during its invasion.   Payback is a bitch when your adversary is the Sith, she thinks.  But this is necessary for victory. 

 

With renewed resolve, Eleena nods at Gaius.  He still has a job to do.  The Republic hasn’t surrendered yet.   “Get going.  I’ll be fine.”

 


	38. chapter 38

There is an elation to victory, a rush of Dark power from death and destruction, plus a special thrill that this battle vanquished so many Jedi.  Malgus feels it.  Others feel it too.  They are pumped and ready to rendezvous with Angral’s forces who need help sacking the Senate nearby.   There is more glory to be had today. 

 

So as Malgus hovers over injured Leena, debating what to do, he is conflicted.  It doesn’t help that they have an audience of hecklers. 

 

“What’s the hold up?”  Yet another voice behind him complains. 

 

Someone answers.  “Malgus brought his alien slave with him.  He’s waiting to put her on the medic ship before we leave.”

 

“I thought she was a mercenary.”

 

“She’s his personal mercenary.”

 

“Whatever.   She’ll get treated like all the rest.  We need to get going before we miss out.  I’m ready to martyr some Senators for democracy.   Today, I’m going to kill more than Jedi.” That sentiment provokes a chorus of agreement and some rather ridiculous boasts.  Because when you get this many Sith Lords together, everything turns into a pissing match.  His brethren are nothing if not competitive even when they are backslapping one another after a successful battle.

 

“Go,” Leena urges him again.  She’s never looked more fierce or more brave.  “I’ll be fine,” she tells him firmly.  “You heard them—the medical transport is already incoming.  Five more minutes tops.”

 

“Malgus, leave her.  She’ll be fine.”  An unidentified Dark Lord behind him sounds exasperated.  “We have a war to win.”

 

His sentiments are echoed by a more pointed observer.  “Look how weak he is for a woman.   Come on, Malgus.  I’ll buy you a new slave if you lose that one.  Stop fussing.  Let’s go!”

 

“Go,” Leena urges very firmly like she’s the one in charge.  And that’s not helping his Sith cred either.  Malgus frowns. 

 

Truthfully, he doesn’t much care what the surrounding men think, he’s mostly concerned about Leena.  Still, she’s got the trauma level bacta patches on and she doesn’t seem critical.  And she’s right that the armor took the brunt of both hits.  But that Force push into the pillar had been awfully hard . . .   Impacts like that can do a lot of damage you can’t see, he knows.  But he also knows that she’s being straight with him—Leena really does want him to go.

 

“This is war, Malgus.  Only the strong survive.  That’s the point.  Leave her behind.”

 

He knows that voice.  It’s Darth Adraas again.  Malgus turns to confront his enemy second-in-command.  “See to it personally that she gets on the first medical transport or I’ll take your head,” he orders curtly.   Then he waits for Adraas to acknowledge the command.  It pains his foe to have to play the role of subordinate, so Malgus relishes making him do it.  “When you’re though, join us in the Senate District.”

 

But still, Malgus lingers.  He’s torn.

 

“Go!”  Leena croaks out again.  And feeling a bit guilty and also a bit henpecked, he complies.    

 

Leaving Adraas in charge, Malgus and the others regroup to head for the sprawling Senate complex.    Supreme Chancellor Beroooken is already dead, killed by Lord Angral himself.   But there is still a great deal of work to be done hunting down Senators and other key Republic officials.  So Lord Malgus heads off to assist and he takes the rest of the victorious Sith Lords and Apprentices with him.  They must move swiftly, lest the Republic government melt away into the shadows.  When Coruscant surrenders, the Sith want it to look completely legitimate.

 

Casting his eyes upward as they leave, Malgus sees the medical transport appear overhead and begin its landing cycle.  Reassured that help has arrived, he takes one long look back at Leena before he focuses on the next mission.  She is right—he needs to see this through to the end.   Only when Coruscant lies in ruins and the Republic has surrendered will he rest.  So far, everything is unfolding according to plan, and that makes Darth Malgus swell with pride.  For he did this.  Today is his brainchild. 

 

When they reach the Senate buildings, the influx of Malgus and his Dark Lords is much appreciated by Angral’s troops.  The Senate buildings have turned out to have quite a bit more security personnel than the Sith anticipated.  There are plenty of well-trained and heavily armed Republic troopers still fighting back when Malgus arrives.  But many of the Republic defenders have scattered along with the fleeing government officials.  They hide in stairwells and storage closets and anywhere else they can.  So methodically, Malgus orders his men to go room by room, floor by floor, to round everyone up.  It’s tedious but important work.  Two hours later, hundreds of Senators, their staffers, and other Republic representatives are captive at gunpoint in the great Senate chamber.  But probably equally as many are lying dead sprawled around the empty buildings.  Malgus had been clear:  shoot to kill if anyone shows resistance or attempts to run.

 

Now that the work is done, the twice victorious Malgus reports to Lord Angral in person.  His superior is holed up in the Supreme Chancellor’s office that has been commandeered as the Sith command center.  “The Jedi Temple is destroyed,” he announces proudly.

 

Angral nods impatiently.   “Yes, yes, Adraas told me.  He called on the comlink before you arrived.”

 

Of course, he did.  It is just like Darth Adraas to steal his thunder.  No doubt Adraas also claimed all the credit for himself.   That’s his usual modus operandi.  But Lord Angral surely can see through that ploy.

 

Malgus continues, “Six members of the Jedi High Council are dead.   We would have killed the rest, but they are on Alderaan.”

 

“Well done,” his superior dutifully commends.  Then he moves on to more pressing topics.  “Have you finished collecting the Senators?”

 

“Yes.  We’re holding them in the Senate chamber.  Shall we begin the executions?   Or do you want to interrogate some first?”

 

“We need a statement, not a manifesto,” Lord Angral frowns at him.  “We need not kill them all.”

 

Why not?  “Killing them all is the plan,” Malgus objects. 

 

The point is to eradicate all Republic officials who might one day seek to lead a rebellion against the occupying Sith.   The strategy is to be ruthless today to stave off conflict in the future.   But apparently, Darth Angral is in a strange mood of magnanimity.  He orders most of the Senators held in custody.  Only the most senior Senators will be executed.  Malgus disagrees, but he complies with the order. 

 

In hindsight, Darth Angral’s mercy should have tipped him off that the invasion would not go as planned.  But at the time, it merely raises his eyebrows.  And that’s because many key points of the attack unfold as expected.  The Coruscant system is encircled with a dual level blockade.  The Jedi Temple is sacked and looted.  The Senate is disbanded and captured.  The bombardment begins to destroy the cityscape.  Martial law is declared.  Lord Angral is now the provisional governor.  So far, everything is implemented without a major hitch.  It’s almost too good to be true.  War is never this easy and predictable.

 

But when Malgus returns from seeing to the Senators, he can’t help but notice that the aerial bombardment has scaled back.  The fighters he sees overhead are in patrol formations now.  They are no longer flying active combat sorties.  He questions Angral on this.  “Why are we not moving forward to destroy the city?   Our bombers have pulled back.”

 

Angral nods.  “The blockade is sufficient.  We only need to keep them from escaping.”

 

“That was never the plan,” Malgus fires back.  “The plan is to destroy the city.”  Today’s goal is to reduce the bright center of the universe to rubble.   To demonstrate the full power and resolve of the Sith war machine as a deterrent to other Republic worlds that might think to resist in the future.  Suddenly, Malgus is suspicious.  First, Angral shows mercy to the Senate officials.  Now, he shows mercy to the average citizenry.  Things are quickly veering off script without apparent reason.  It makes him suspicious.

 

“What’s going on?” Malgus demands.

 

“I have my orders from the Emperor himself,” Angral answers with a quelling look.  “We are to maintain the status quo for the next several hours.”

 

“What’s going on?” Malgus repeats his question.  “We are not finished with combat, and yet you are moving to the occupation protocols,” he accuses.  “It’s too soon for that.  The Republic forces that are left will have time to regroup and respond if we don’t move quickly to neutralize them.”  This is basic Sith strategy—act swiftly and decisively while you have the advantage of surprise.  Slowing things down will only increase the risk. 

 

Just then, Darth Angral’s top lieutenant marches in and salutes.  “We have the latest from Alderaan, my lord.   News of the invasion has spread like we wanted.”

 

“Excellent.  Report,” Angral orders to his man while Malgus listens in. 

 

The officer describes the general reaction to news of the invasion.   It’s shock, dismay, and righteous outrage, as expected.  The Sith invasion is resoundingly condemned by all in the Republic camp.  “Lord Serevin and Lord Baras have set forth our new terms as prepared.  They’re calling it the Treaty of Coruscant.  Some in the Republic delegation want to break off talks, but Lord Serevin reports that the negotiations are continuing.  He estimates that they will reach agreement within the day.”

 

Listening to this, Lord Malgus’ strategic mind puts it all together fast.  When the officer has finished his report, Malgus whirls on Angral.  “We hold Coruscant in our fist and need only to squeeze.  And yet peace negotiations are continuing?”  Is he understanding this right??

 

Darth Angral nods and comes clean.  “Yes.   This invasion gives us the leverage we need to negotiate the peace terms we want.”

 

“There is no need to negotiate!” Malgus hisses back.  “We are here to conquer, not to cry peace.  When we control this world and the rest of the Republic, we can do what we want.”

 

“I have my orders from the Emperor himself!”  Darth Angral raises his voice, something this aristocratic man seldom does.  It gets Malgus’ attention fast, for rarely does Angral get rattled.  “Now is not the time to debate,” Angral warns.  “Now is the time to implement the Emperor’s will.”

 

“What happens if the Republic agrees to this Treaty of Coruscant?” Malgus demands even as his quick mind is guessing the answer. 

 

“Then, we pull out.  That’s part of the deal.  They pull out of Ziost and we pull out of Coruscant.  It’s a bilateral retreat.”

 

Yes, it’s as he feared.   The Sith will rule Coruscant for a few days at most.  This invasion was a feint, nothing more. 

 

Lord Malgus swallows hard as the meaning sinks in.  That Jedi Master he killed in the Temple had been right. The goal of today is peace.

 

There is a certain logic to it, but still Malgus has a hard time wrapping his head around this news.  For he is watching his dream of total victory slip away.  “The Council approved the battle plan.  The goal was always to destroy Coruscant and to force a surrender.   But now, you’re calling off the attack when we’ve just gotten started?”  This is the most stupid decision ever in the history of stupid decisions. 

 

“The threat of more destruction has value.   This strategy will get us the terms we want,” Angral contends defensively.  “Have we started beaming livefeed of the invasion to Alderaan?” He turns to his subordinate with a questioning look.

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

“Good.”  Angral turns back to Malgus. “They’ll be seeing all of this real time.  They will know we’re not bluffing.  If they drag their feet on signing the treaty, we’ll just execute a few more Senators.”

 

“That won’t work,” Malgus complains.  He is still dismayed at this development.

 

Angral shrugs.  “Maybe not with us.  But the Republic is squeamish when it comes to death.”

 

But why are they even debating this?   “This is a ridiculous move!” Malgus vents.  “If we destroy the Republic, we don’t need terms!  We won’t need leverage!”   His face is a thundercloud now. “Who is responsible for this decision?” he demands.

 

“I told you—the Emperor himself,” Angral snaps back testily. 

 

“It’s a mistake!”

 

“You may tell him that if he grants you an audience.  But in the meantime, you will follow orders, Lord Malgus.  Go out to my command ship and oversee the blockade.  You are my orbital commander now.”

 

“That’s Koldor’s job.”

 

“Not anymore.”  

 

Malgus sees this move for what it is—a convenient way for Angral to get rid of him.  Well, he’s not going quietly.  “Victory is within our grasp!  We will never get this chance again!”  Where is the Emperor’s killer instinct?   They are so close to ruling it all at long last.  For three hundred years they waited for this chance.

 

“This is not my decision,” Angral grinds out.  “I am following orders and so should you.   There is a chain of command and it emanates from Lord Vitiate.  Now, go do your duty for the Empire.”

 

“You deceived me!” Malgus accuses.  “You knew this was the plan all along!”

 

“Go to the command ship and await my orders,” Angral fires back.  “You are dismissed, Lord Malgus.”

 

When he stands his ground and silently waits for an answer, Darth Angral relents.  He sighs and rubs at his cybernetic eye. “Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do.  But consider it a challenge to prove your loyalty.   The Empire will get through this and be better for it.  There will be more wars to fight.”

 

“A challenge?   Are you mad?” Malgus scoffs.  “Challenges don’t make us who we are. They reveal who we are.  And the Sith are better than this!”

 

“Maybe so, but deal with it.”

 

His mind is racing.  How did this happen?  If Darth Angral wasn’t behind this, then who was?  “Who convinced the Emperor of this?   It sure wasn’t Azamin.”  Or the other two council members from the Ministry of War.  But was this Darth Ravage?  Or maybe that weirdly Jedi-like Darth Mortis?  He’s not to be trusted.

 

“It was Baras.   He would rather bargain than fight.”  There is no love lost between Darth Baras and Darth Angral, Malgus knows.  That feud is almost as bitter as his own with Adraas.   But Angral’s words ring true.  This blame is merited.  “For what it’s worth,” Angral adds, “Serevin didn't throw you under the bus.  He stood firm for the original plan to destroy Coruscant.  And for his trouble, he now has Baras looking over his shoulder now on Alderaan.”

 

“The Emperor doesn’t trust Serevin?”  Malgus’ eyes narrow.   That’s more bad news.

 

“Let us say that the Emperor knows that Serevin is positioned to win either for himself as the hero peace negotiator or through you as his victorious son-in-law.  Serevin is sitting pretty regardless of whether success comes from Plan A or Plan B.  But he did advance the invasion as the preferred route with his peace deal to be used as a fallback.”  

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Malgus complains as he shakes his head.  He feels utterly betrayed.  Maybe he should have seen this move coming, but he didn’t.  Not at all.  He thought that he himself would be the one to fulfill his Force vision from Korriban.  But alas, not.   Some other Dark Lord will be the Sith hero to conquer the Republic.  Because no matter what that Jedi Master said about peace today, Malgus remembers vividly what he saw years ago.  He’s still convinced that one day the Republic will fall and the Sith will rule the galaxy . . . just not now.

 

This is a huge disappointment for himself and for the Sith Empire.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he grinds out again.  He’s growing more and more angry by the moment.

 

“Because I would rather have this scene here now than have you openly criticize the Emperor before witnesses at the Council or in a senior command meeting.”   Angral shoots him a frustrated look.  The gentlemanly Sith commander becomes wincingly blunt.  “It was paternalistic, I admit.  But you are you, Malgus.  I was hoping to save you from your worst impulses.  You are far more strategic for the Empire than you are for yourself.  You never know when to shut up.  You are your own worst enemy.”

 

“I can’t believe the Emperor did this,” Malgus breathes out.  He feels terribly, utterly, hopelessly betrayed. “How could Baras lead him astray like this?”

 

“Off the record, I oppose this decision for the same reasons you do.  You are right about this decision and you have been right all along about invading the Core,” Angral concedes.  “But nothing good will come of setting yourself up in opposition to the Emperor.   Malgus, I kept you in the dark for your own sake.  Now, you will get all the credit for designing the invasion ruse and for executing the successful Temple raid.  I will even give you credit for an assist with the Senate.” 

 

“I want victory!” Malgus sneers, “Not credit!”

 

“You could use the credit,” Angral snaps back angrily.  Clearly, he thinks he has acted in Malgus’ best interest, even if Malgus himself is dubious.  “You are the best strategist we have and probably our best overall fighting man still.  But no one likes you or trusts you after all the stunts you’ve pulled through the years.  When will you get it through your thick skull that you need the goodwill of others to succeed?  A random nobody like you will never get the Emperor’s notice without others’ support.  Wake up, Malgus!  Play the game like everyone else!”

 

He doesn’t respond.  He just stares down his superior and fumes.  The Emperor’s decision to abort the invasion and Angral’s decision to keep him in the dark might have coherent rationales, but Malgus refuses to accept them.  Angral’s deceit in particular stings.  Because it is motivated by the constant jockeying for credit and position that hamstrings the Sith military.  Everyone is in it as much for themselves as for the cause.  And that is not a recipe for unity or victory in the long run, Malgus knows.

 

“You’ll thank me for this later.  I am trying to help you, because you won’t help yourself,” Angral grinds out.  He gets the last word because disgusted Malgus simply storms off. 

 

His temper is bubbling over when he brushes by Lord Adraas on his way into the command center.  “What’s your hurry?   Running after your slave woman?” Adraas brays out.

 

And that’s just the spark to set Lord Malgus’ famously cold temper off.  He whirls and instantly he’s in Adraas’ face.  “Did you know?” he demands.   How far had this conspiracy of silence reached?

 

“Did I know what?”  Adraas is coy.

 

“Did you know that this invasion is just a ploy for positioning in the peace process?”

 

A wide toothy grin splits Adraas’ patrician features.  He looks almost gleeful that the cat is out of the bag.  It grates.  “Did Angral tell you already?   Pity I wasn’t there to witness it.  Malgus, the joke’s on you.  You came up with this ruse and then you fell victim to it.  You were deceived as much as the Republic was.  The rest of us have known for days of the Emperor’s decision.”   Adraas sneers, “We were wondering when you would figure it out.  Now, am I too late?  Are there any Senators left to kill?” 

 

Malgus doesn’t answer.  He just fumes some more.

 

“Hey, cheer up,” Adraas cajoles mockingly.  “We got to kill some Jedi today.  You were the hero at the Temple.”  Then smug Adraas laughs in his face. 

 

They have all been laughing at him behind his back, Malgus realizes.  They all knew the invasion would be aborted.   That the Sith would rule Coruscant for a fleeting few days at most.

 

Feeling irate and frustrated beyond belief, Darth Malgus stalks to commandeer the nearest shuttle.  He heads for the command ship as ordered to do his duty.  It will put him in close proximity to Leena on the medical frigate, so he can manufacture an excuse to check on her.  He wants to get her moved to the _Absolute_ as soon as possible.  She will be safest on his own ship with the crew who know her.

 

So Malgus relieves Darth Koldor of his command and stands sentinel on the bridge of Angral’s ship  overseeing the blockade.  It’s a boring job.  With the bombardment concluded and the few Republic starships that mounted a defense long destroyed, there’s not much to do.  The Sith monitor all airspace on the surface and in orbit.  Travel on and off world is strictly prohibited.  But every now and then, a civilian ship attempts to flee to hyperspace and is intercepted. 

 

If Malgus had his way, he would shoot them down.  But Angral wants him to capture them instead.  So, the blockade runners are disabled and hauled into the cargo hold.  Aboard these fleeing ships are inevitably the wealthy Republic elite.  It’s a lot of scared looking business moguls and their families.  Darth Angral sees them as valuable prisoners to use as additional leverage in the peace negotiations.  And that makes some sense, Malgus admits.  But he thinks shooting down a few of these ships might be an effective deterrent to encourage Coruscant’s citizens to stay put and obey the martial law.  Especially the rich ones who think the rules don’t apply to them.

 

After many long overnight hours of this boring duty, Malgus delegates command back to Darth Koldor.  Then he heads to the medical frigate, the _Steadfast_.  His inquiry about Eleena’s condition has gone unanswered for too long.  Finally, the message returns that the staff cannot locate a patient meeting her description.  Troubled, Malgus decides to investigate for himself.  But when he arrives, he finds that information is correct.  Eleena Daru is not onboard the _Steadfast_.

 

Suddenly, he has a very bad feeling about this.


	39. Chapter 39

Things start to go wrong for Eleena as soon as Gaius departs.  He leaves his second-in-command Darth Adraas in charge as he moves on to meet Darth Angral at the nearby Republic Senate complex.   Irked to be the sole Dark Lord left behind, Lord Adraas is anxious to be done dealing with the battle aftermath.  He begins barking orders while a medical transport arrives to pick up Eleena and the other wounded.  

 

As soon as the air-ambulance touches down, a team of battlefield medics jump out to assess the wounded.  Eleena tells her story and gets a quick rudimentary scan like all the rest.  “You’re bleeding,” the medic tells her as he reads his device.  And, yes, she knows that.  The two flashburns keep weeping blood through the bacta patches.  “Bleeding internally,” the man elaborates. “Probably from the impact of the Force push.  Plus, that shoulder hit is far too near your lungs for my liking,” he continues.  “Keep the patches on and let’s get you on the first transport.  If the bleeding doesn’t stop you could go into hemorrhagic shock.  Are you dizzy?”

 

“No.”   She’s just in a lot of pain.  Everything hurts right now.

 

“Good.  We’ll keep an eye on your blood pressure.  You’ll be fine once we get you fully checked out.  But speak up if you start getting dizzy or have trouble breathing.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Looks like the armor took the brunt of the blaster shots.  You’d be dead without it.  But bacta will heal it all up fast.  You also have a slight concussion.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The medic smiles encouragingly at her.  “Don’t worry.  You will heal and you’ll be good as new.”   The medic then moves on to the next person. 

 

Darth Adraas saunters over after a few minutes to supervise the medics.  It’s a task far beneath his pay grade.  Lord Malgus is the exception and not the rule when it comes to looking after the troops.  Most Sith Lords treat their fighting men with a condescension that verges on contempt.  Typically, Dark Lords fight a battle and then move on, leaving others to deal with the messy aftermath.   Only Darth Malgus seems to care about the everyman of the Sith military.  And for that, his loyal troopers adore him.  But no one adores Darth Adraas as he keeps complaining for everyone to hurry up.

 

Eleena is being handed into the medical transport when Adraas abruptly intervenes.  "Leave her.  That one's full.  She can wait for the next transport."

 

The medic helping Eleena objects, "But, my lord, her injuries need--"

 

"That's an order!  Tell that pilot to take off."

 

"Yes, my lord."  The medic immediately backs down. He helps Eleena out to rejoin the rest left to wait.  Before he departs, he reaches into the trauma kit he's holding and pulls out two painkiller injections.  He administers one to Eleena and then shoves the other into her hand.  "Here.  In case the next transport gets delayed.  It's safe to take another shot in an hour.  Not before then.  Got it?"

 

"Thanks," she whispers.  Already, the shot is taking effect.  It doesn’t remove all of the discomfort, but it takes the edge off.  Yes, she thinks as she swallows hard, this is manageable.

 

Commander Barker, her strike team leader, approaches now.  "Hang in there,” her friend whispers under his breath “I'll make sure Lord Malgus knows you're going to the _Steadfast_. You’ll get help there and then we’ll get you back to the _Absolute_.  You don't need to be around that one,” the Commander nods surreptitiously in the direction of Lord Adraas, “any longer than necessary.   We all know how he feels about the boss.  Do you still have your comlink?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Buzz me if you need help.”

 

“Okay.”

 

As if on cue, Lord Adraas looks over their direction. “Get going, Commander,” he snaps.   “I want to get out of here.” 

 

The first transport of wounded lifts off and the remnants of the original strike team fan out to ransack what remains of the Jedi Temple.   The main structure itself lies in ruins, having been detonated with explosives.  But the outlying buildings housing the Jedi archives and datafiles are still intact.  The Sith pilfer them for everything they can find.  It’s an intelligence grab as well as an intentional desecration. 

 

After all of those materials are hauled away on surface transports, Darth Adraas is anxious to be gone.  Clearly, he thinks he is missing out on all the glory to be had executing Republic senators.  So, casting his eyes over Eleena and the other remaining wounded huddled in a group, Lord Adraas decides that he’s done waiting.  He will press on to the Senate District while the remaining wounded are taken to a civilian hospital here on Coruscant.   After he gives his orders, Darth Adraas marches off with a swirl of his black cloak.

 

Eleena and the others pile into a transport for the ride to a local hospital.  When they arrive, Eleena sees that the facility has been commandeered by the Sith military and the local physicians and nurses are none too pleased with that situation.  They openly balk at treating enemy wounded while local citizens and Republic fighters must wait.  After a few minutes of arguments and threats, the Sith officer in charge decides this is a battle he would rather not fight.  He opts to pull out.  By this time, the second medical evacuation transport has arrived at the ruins of the Jedi Temple.  It is redirected to the hospital to retrieve Eleena and the others.   They will be airlifted to the _Steadfast_ medical frigate in orbit, as planned all along. 

 

Soon everyone gets loaded onto the transport, except Eleena. 

 

“Leave her behind,” the commanding officer from back at the Temple orders.  “Lord Adraas specifically wants her left behind,” the man says.  He looks uncomfortable at this decision, but he’s a good soldier and he follows orders. Especially orders from a Sith Lord.   “I’m sorry,” the man tells Eleena with pity in his eyes. “Maybe they will help you here.”

 

“Tell Commander Barker where I am,” Eleena cries.  Someone needs to know where she is, and the Commander will know to get a message to Lord Malgus.

 

The man doesn’t respond.  Instead, he tells the local hospital administrator he has been bickering with, “Make sure she gets treatment.  We scanned her already.  Our guys say she could go critical eventually if she doesn’t get assistance.”

 

Those words turn out to be a very unhelpful request.  For as soon as the Sith military leaves the hospital, Eleena is on her own. No one feels compelled to assist an enemy fighter now.  Especially one whose fingerprints scan as a fugitive slave woman wanted for suspicion of murder.  Resigned to a long wait, Eleena gives herself the remaining painkiller injection from the medic.   She can handle this.   She is strong.   This isn’t as bad as the aftermath of her Republic interrogation.  

 

All around her, the hospital is a scene of chaos.  No one saw this invasion coming and everyone fears what will happen next.  Overhead, the Sith bombardment continues and no one knows if the hospital will be a target.  From outside, there are the sounds of explosions and blaster fire.  It combines with the cries for help, moans of pain, and hysterical tears of the wounded to make for a cacophony of fear.  

 

This is just as bad as the invasion she witnessed on Ziost, Eleena realizes.   Only this time, she is the invader.

 

The sense of urgency and dread is palpable.  It makes the normally calm medical staff stressed and short tempered.   Eleena witnesses lots of yelling.  Into all this conflict pours wave after wave of wounded people wandering in on foot and ferried by a makeshift fleet of civilian speeders deployed as ambulances.  The hospital is quickly overrun.  There are far too many patients and not enough medical droids and personnel to treat them.

 

The medics quickly devise a triage system to determine who gets care first.   Eleena ends up at the lowest priority.  She gets only the most rudimentary care.   It keeps her alive, but it doesn't address her wounds.  ‘We’ll get to you’ is the response Eleena hears repeatedly when she complains. 

 

It doesn’t take long before Eleena realizes that she needs to get out of here.  But even if she could walk out—which she very much doubts—where would she go?  Coruscant is an active war zone right now.  She’s safest staying put.  So, she digs into a pocket for her comlink.  Eleena gives it a try but, as expected, it’s not working.   By now, the Republic knows to jam the Sith communications channels just like the Sith are jamming their own.  Cut off from the Sith forces and lying wounded amidst her enemy, Eleena feels increasingly helpless.  Lord Adraas’ orders have combined with the fog of war to put her in a very bad situation.  All she can do now is wait, stay alive, and hope for the best. 

 

But the pain is exhausting.  It nags at Eleena and depletes her strength.  Plus, the powerful painkiller shots she has taken make her very sleepy.  Hours into her ordeal, Eleena falls asleep sprawled in a chair.  When she wakes, she is on the floor in an empty corridor just down the hall from the main trauma unit.  This seems to be a repository of used crash carts and bloody soiled linens.  Every now and then, a medical worker appears to dump more used supplies and equipment before returning to their post.

 

“I need help.”   Eleena croaks this each time someone appears.  Her pleas mostly go unanswered.  But every now and then, someone takes pity on her and offers another painkiller shot or a new bacta patch.   One person brings her some water.  But no one gives her the treatment she needs.  Eleena gets told ‘I’ll see what I can do’ a few times, but nothing ever comes of it.  And so, she just suffers and waits. 

 

The pain keeps getting worse.  Her chest feels heavy and it is becoming an effort to breath. Her mind is fuzzy too, but that could be all the drugs.  She feels only dimly aware of her surroundings, so it takes her a moment to react when a shadow falls over her.  Is this a hospital worker come to help her at last?   Miserable Eleena blinks up at the young, very serious looking brown-haired woman who stands over her.  It takes a moment for her eyes to focus.  But when they do, Eleena’s heart sinks.  No, this person has definitely not come to assist. 

 

“Are you Eleena Daru?”

 

“Yes.  Who are you?”

 

“Aryn Leneer, Jedi Knight.  Do I have the right person?  Are you Darth Malgus’ mercenary girlfriend?”

 

How does she answer that?  Eleena hesitates.  

 

“Are you the blue Twi’lek he took with him to the Temple?” the woman demands belligerently.

 

This Jedi woman is very jittery and that strikes Eleena as uncharacteristic of her kind.   The Jedi she has met before were always very cool and calm.  Is this woman here to arrest her?  Has someone identified her from her time in custody at Ziost?  

 

“Answer me!”

 

“I was at the Temple,” Eleena nods warily as her eyes find the two lightsabers on the Jedi’s hips and the blaster strapped to her thigh.  This woman has deadly force at her fingertips, and Eleena knows better than to lie to a Jedi.  “I was part of the Sith strike team,” she preemptively confesses.  She doesn’t have it in her to argue right now.

 

“I’ve been looking for you.  One of the Jedi healers who works here reported you were seen.  Darth Malgus killed my Master at the Temple,” the woman growls. 

 

Eleena tries to be sincere, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

“No, you’re not!” the enemy woman accuses as she blinks back tears.  “My Master was Ven Zallow.   He was brave and strong and he did not deserve to die at the hands of the evil Sith!”   The Jedi woman breathes hard, clearly fighting for her composure.  She is distraught and it shows.  “Because Darth Malgus killed Master Zallow, you are going to die now.”   Aryn Leneer ignites one of the lightsabers that hangs at her hips.  It flashes brilliant green.  She holds it poised over Eleena’s head.  “Today, Darth Malgus will also lose someone he cares for.”

 

Eleena has nowhere to flee and no way to defend herself.  So she brazenly hisses out, “Go ahead, Jedi.  Kill me.  Take your revenge.  You might as well.  I think I’m dying anyway.”

 

The woman bristles.  She looks uncomfortable.  “This is justice,” she maintains as she lifts her chin. “Jedi do not take revenge.”

 

“Go ahead and lie to yourself,” Eleena responds softly.  “I tell myself lies, too.  We all do.”

 

“It’s the truth!  My Master is dead and I want justice!” the woman screeches as she shifts her weight nervously.  The movement makes her sword buzz. 

 

Eleena is in too much pain to match the Jedi’s pitch or volume. She’s not up for a screaming match. So she keeps speaking in a quiet voice.  “I did not kill your Master.  He is the one who injured me.  He shot me twice and pushed me into a pillar.  Darth Malgus gave me justice when he killed Ven Zallow.”

 

“I am the wronged party here!” the Jedi woman stakes her claim to victim status.  Then she repositions her sword to strike.

 

“Maybe so.”  Eleena shoots her an indignant look.  “But I am the one who is dying.”

 

“Why aren’t they treating you?” the Knight asks as she frowns. 

 

“I’m the enemy, remember?”

 

“You’re not really one of them.  I hear that Mid Rim accent.”

 

Eleena nods.  “They ran my fingerprints. They know I’m a runaway.  That puts me at the bottom of their triage list.  I am considered someone’s property,” Eleena grits her teeth as she says this.  “That’s why I am left here to die.  Because my life has no value.”

 

“You’re a slave?”  The Knight frowns some more.   “I’ve never met a slave.”

 

“I’m a person in the Empire,” Eleena snaps.  “But here in the Republic, I am just a slave.”

 

“So how did you meet Malgus?” Her attacker is curious.  “What would a Sith Lord have to do with a Republic slave?”

 

“He saved my life.  He set me free.”  The Jedi woman blinks at Eleena in surprise, so she keeps going.  She summarizes the truth of her life since Barrabas Logistics.  “Darth Malgus gave me a home. He gave me a purpose.  He gave me love.”

 

The Jedi woman scoffs at this.  “The Sith do not love.”

 

“I thought it was the Jedi who are forbidden to love.  What do you know of the Sith anyway?” Eleena challenges as the green saber buzzes under her nose.  “Very little, I imagine.”

 

“They are violent oppressors who invaded my world!”

 

“I lived on Ziost,” Eleena counters.   “One day, the Republic violently invaded my world.  Don’t you see?   The Republic’s moral high ground was lost long ago.”

 

“We liberated Ziost.”

 

“That’s not how the people living on Ziost saw it.”

 

The Jedi looks frustrated that Eleena doesn’t see it the way she does.  But Aryn Leneer looks to be at least ten years Eleena’s junior, and she has more zeal than life experience.  Youth tends to have a certain arrogance in its steadfast convictions.   Life can be black and white until you live long enough to know better.  But not this young Jedi Knight.  Not yet, at least. 

 

“We are bringing peace, justice, freedom, and security to the worlds enslaved by the Sith Empire,” the Jedi maintains.  When Eleena looks unconvinced, she doubles down.  “You’ll see in the end.”

 

Eleena shakes her head.  “The Republic never brought me freedom.  It declared me a slave to be sold away from my family and abused by my owner.   It took a Sith Lord to free me.”

 

The Jedi woman doesn’t have a response to this.  She is grieving, and that makes Eleena more sympathetic than afraid.   For all this woman’s bluster, she seems very vulnerable.  Feeling very vulnerable herself right now, Eleena can relate.   

 

“Did you love your Master Zallow?” Eleena asks boldly.

 

“Yes.”  A tear leaks out now.  Aryn Leneer brushes it away furiously.  “I loved him very much. He was like a father to me.”

 

“Then I am truly sorry for your loss,” Eleena commiserates.  “Love is precious and rare.” 

 

Her sincerity gets through. The Jedi woman lowers her sword.  “Maybe I could get you some help.”

 

Eleena shakes her head sadly.  “I tried.  They’ll only give me painkillers and patches now and then.  That’s all.  When I kept asking, they dumped me in this hallway.”

 

“How long have you been here like this?“

 

“Since last night.  I don’t know how long ago that was.”  Eleena has no idea what time it is now.  But it feels like forever since the raid on the Jedi Temple.

 

“Well, you’re not a Jedi asking.  Let me try.”   The Knight deactivates her sword and marches off.  She calls over her shoulder to boast, “In the Republic, even prisoners get medical care.”

 

“Wait!” Eleena struggles to sit up.  She cries out weakly, “Don’t do that!   I refuse to be helped only to go back to being a slave.”

 

The Jedi woman pauses and stares.

 

Eleena is adamant.  “I would rather die free than live to be a slave again.”

 

Aryn Leneer nods slowly and looks especially smug.  “I knew you were one of us, Eleena Daru.”

 

Minutes later the annoyed looking Jedi woman is back to report that her search was fruitless. “They’re going to send a medic droid over here when one frees up.  It’s a madhouse down the hall.”

 

“Okay.  Thank you.”  Eleena slants a glance up at the Knight.  Her sword is still safely stowed, and that’s a relief.  “So . . . I take it you’re not going to kill me?”

 

“I haven’t decided.”  The young woman crosses her arms and juts out her hip in a stance of defiance.  But seconds later, she relents and confesses, “I have never killed anyone.  I work behind the scenes in this war.   Mostly, Jedi try to avoid killing people.”  She points a glare Eleena’s way.  “We aren’t the power obsessed Sith who kill for fun.”

 

“If Lord Malgus shows up, he will kill you,” Eleena feels obliged to warn.  “If the Sith storm this hospital, they’ll kill you.  You should probably leave.”

 

The Jedi is unconcerned.  “No one’s coming to save you. No one’s going to hurt me.  The Sith are gone.”

 

“Gone?”

 

“Yes.  They abandoned the invasion today.  They are pulling out right now.  By tonight, the blockade should be lifted and they will be gone.”

 

“Gone?  Gone??” Eleena repeats again in disbelief. “Why?  Did we lose?”

 

“Oh, you won.  You got all the leverage you needed in the peace negotiations.  We caved to all of your conditions, including pulling out of Ziost.”

 

Eleena doesn’t understand.  “We gave up victory for peace?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eleena’s eyes widen as she comprehends the significance.  So that Jedi Master at the Temple had been right.  “Gaius will be so disappointed.   Oh, Gaius,” she moans, thinking of how he will take this news. 

 

“Who’s Gaius?”

 

“Lord Malgus.”

 

“Oh.”  

 

Eleena can’t keep the resentment from her tone.  “He’s a good man.  He may be your enemy, but he’s an honorable man.  Lord Malgus fights for what he believes in and he is good to his men.”

 

“He killed my Master.”

 

“Would your Master have killed Lord Malgus?” Eleena challenges, knowing the answer.

 

“Er . . . yes,” the Jedi Knight begrudgingly admits. 

 

“Tell me more about your Master Zallow,” Eleena suggests.  She’s thinking if she can keep this Jedi woman around, she might get some medical care after all.

 

Aryn Leneer purses her lips and considers.  “Alright.  I’ll tell you about my Master if you’ll tell me about Darth Malgus.”

 

“Fine,” Eleena agrees.  “You really aren’t going to kill me, are you?”

 

“I wanted to,” the young woman admits.  She looks very sheepish and a little defeated.  “And that was wrong of me. It’s not the Jedi way to kill unarmed, injured prisoners.”  She sighs.  "I am losing my way, Eleena Daru.  This war is making me do things that betray the values I was raised on.”

 

“It sounds as if the Sith have lost their way as well,” Eleena agrees, thinking of how Gaius will react to the aborted invasion.  He will be so disappointed.  Disgusted too, she suspects.

 

“I’m not a bad person,” the Jedi contends.  She’s still thinking of herself.  “Really, I’m not.”

 

“I believe you,” Eleena answers.  “I don’t think either of us is a bad person.  We just come at things from different perspectives and with different experiences.”   Eleena looks to the young Knight.  “If I lived your life, I might think as you think.”

 

The woman nods.  “I will stay with you until the medic droid comes.  I will make sure you get help.”

 

“Thank you.  I’d like that.  I’m scared,” Eleena now admits.  She’s alone, hurt, and scared.  It is a daunting thing to face a slow, painful ordeal on your own.  

 

“I’m doing this because I’m a Jedi and I believe in the ideals of the Light.  Not because I like you,” Aryn Leneer points out for the record.

 

“Okay.”

 

“It’s not because I feel sorry for you,” she continues.

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’m doing this to honor my Master.  He would have helped you, not killed you.  He would have told me that I am better than that.”

 

“Your Master sounds wise and kind.”

 

“He was.”  Looking at faltering Eleena, the Jedi Knight decides, “I’ll go check on that droid again.”

 


	40. chapter 40

A wounded trooper from the Temple who is aboard the _Steadfast_ is able to tell Malgus that Leena was abandoned at a local hospital.  She was left on her own to fend for herself with the enemy.  The man doesn’t know Coruscant and can’t tell Malgus where the hospital is.  Only that it was on the Upper Level of the famed urban world.  Armed with that information and the help of the Force, Darth Malgus sets out to find her. 

 

His frantic search ends several hours later after one by one he has eliminated all the potential locations.   Leena is found at long last.  He can sense her presence as soon as his speeder nears his destination.  And, of course, it is at the final hospital on his long list of possibilities.   But she’s here and she’s alive and that fills him with relief.

 

From the looks of it, the hospital is overrun with battle casualties, with the wounded spilling out onto the street. Coruscant had been overly reliant on its defensive shield grid for protection, meaning it has little left in the way of civilian defense at this point.  That means no one is guarding this facility.  Still, Malgus can’t simply walk into a place like this unannounced and unnoticed. 

 

In fact, as soon as his heavily armored, heavily manned battle speeder touches down on the adjacent street, the locals get restless.  Someone hollers an insult and it’s like a dam burst of resentment.  Soon, there is a chorus of curses from the crowd of medical workers and wounded onlookers on the street.  First, someone throws a rock.  Then, someone takes a shot. 

 

Impatient Malgus freezes the blaster shot.  Then, he concentrates a moment and releases a small shockwave of Force in the vicinity.  That shuts everyone up fast as its concussive effects serve to worsen preexisting injuries and create new hurts.  With his troopers guarding the speeder, Malgus storms in to retrieve Leena.  The faster he gets in and gets out of here, the better.

 

The disorganized confusion outside the hospital is matched by the disarray inside.  No one seems to know where Leena is and a quick search of the patient records reveals nothing.  So yet again, Darth Malgus concentrates hard in the Force to find her.  He locates Leena sprawled in an empty hallway strewn with discarded bloody linens and carts of medical equipment.   Instantly, Malgus sizes up the situation.  What he sees has him alarmed.  Very alarmed.

 

No one has treated her. 

 

Leena looks like she was dumped here and forgotten.   She lies propped against the wall.  Her skin appears more pale grey than vivid blue in the bright white hospital lighting.  Her eyes are half closed with fatigue and pain.  She looks bad.  Very bad.  And worse still, she is not alone. 

 

A woman crouches beside her.  She is finishing affixing a new bacta patch to one of Leena’s wounds.  That in and of itself is not noteworthy.  What’s noteworthy is that the woman is a Jedi.  A pair of lightsabers hangs from a belt on her waist and she is wearing the traditional neutral robes and brown cloak. 

 

Malgus’ own saber leaps into his grasp. His sword ignites with the familiar snap hiss.  By the looks of Leena, he can tell he needs to make this fight quick.

 

The Jedi woman whirls and leaps to her feet.  She too pulls her swords.

 

“Get away from her!” Malgus growls.  “Don’t touch her!”

 

“You!” the woman answers as she drops to classic Jedi ready position.

 

That exchange gets failing Leena’s attention.  “G-Gaius??” she sputters.   “Don’t h-hurt her.  She was trying to help.”   Leena looks up and smiles weakly at him. “You f-found me . . . you came . . . ”   She blinks and looks dazed.  “Just like on Ziost . . .”

 

Truly alarmed now, Malgus turns to the Jedi woman and freezes her with the Force.  Hard.  He would choke her dead now, but that can wait.  He needs to see to Leena first.  Malgus extinguishes his weapon and falls to his knees.  Suddenly, his heart is in his throat.  “Leena . . . Leena . . . “  He checks her over for any additional injuries.  But her flashburns seem to be covered by new bacta patches, so what’s going on?  “Why has no one has treated you?”

 

“They won’t help me,” she moans.  “I’m the enemy and a slave.  And it’s t-too late.  Aryn dragged a medic droid over here and it confirmed it.”

 

“Confirmed what?” Malgus demands, his heart in his throat.

 

“I’ve been slowly b-bleeding inside since yesterday.  I needed surgery or special clotting drugs to s-stop it.”  Leena speaks through trembling lips.  She inhales a ragged breath and says words he dreads to hear.  “The droid gave me an hour to live and that was t-two hours ago.” 

 

Oh, Gods.  This is not good.  She’s been sitting here for hours hemorrhaging and no one did anything about it?  “Come on.  I’m getting you out of here.”  He’ll get her to the speeder and to a Sith medical ship.  It will take half an hour, but if she has held out this long then perhaps she can make it.

 

“No, don’t,” she forestalls him.  “Gaius, don’t.  I won’t make it.”  Her eyes fill with tears as she urges him, “Go on.  L-Leave me.  It’s not safe for you to be here.”

 

She’s right.  They need to leave now.  “Come on.”  He starts to gather her up and she gasps out from the pain. 

 

“No, please,” she begs.  “I don’t want to die in a speeder.  Gaius, don’t waste the time we have.”

 

The stoic way she says this tells him how much she has accepted her fate.  Leena meets his eyes and stammers out, “No one’s ever really gone, r-right?”  She’s looking for reassurance.

 

“Right,” he confirms and his voice cracks.  For suddenly, he understands that this truly is the end.  He has found Leena only to lose her.  This feels just like the sacking of Coruscant when he tasted ultimate victory only to relinquish it.  It’s like fate is teasing him with fulfillment only to snatch it from his grasp.  But this is far more important than any battle.  This is Leena.  His one and only true love.

 

“Where’s your m-mask?”  She wants him to put his respirator back on.  “It’s smoggy here.  Your lungs--”

 

“I’ll wear it, I promise,” he yelps. “It’s back in the speeder.”  Then he drags off his heavy gauntlet gloves to hold her bare hand in his.  It feels clammy and cold.  Alarmed, he cups her cheek with his other hand.  Her face feels clammy and cold, too.  “Oh, Leena . . .”  The enormity of the situation is fast rushing up to him.  Emotions overwhelm him.  The outwardly cold and remote Darth Malgus the New starts to cry.  A great big sob escapes from this fearsome man as he beholds that the end is very, very near.  If only this hospital had been the first on his list, he would have been here two hours ago.

 

“Don’t cry,” she soothes.  “This is f-for the best.  Now, I won’t hold you b-back.”

 

“I told you, I don’t care,” he growls.  Leena is worth the ridicule.  Those haters be damned, it was going to be him and Leena against the galaxy.  But now, that is slipping away fast.  “D-Don’t leave me!” he orders in his gruff voice of command.  It’s always his default tone.  “Don’t you dare leave me!” he rages against fate.

 

“Aryn told me about the peace d-deal.  G-Gaius, I’m so sorry . . .”

 

The peace deal is nothing compared to this loss.  He sobs again, “Don’t leave me!”

 

“I d-don’t want to,” she stammers out.  “I would have been yours forever, if I could.”

 

“Forever . . .” he repeats.  “Forever.  Yes, forever.”  That word triggers him to an act he should have done many months ago.  It’s too late now, but he will do it anyway.  He will give his Leena all the commitment and status that has been denied her.  Now, at the end, he will honor their love.

 

Looking around, he grabs a scalpel off a discarded medical cart nearby.  It looks relatively clean, but he wipes it on his cape anyway.  It will have to do.  Gripping Leena’s left hand tightly, he begins the ritual marriage vows in a rush.  He doesn’t even bother asking Leena to marry him, he just plows ahead.  They don’t have time to argue about this. 

 

Staring her in the eyes, he vows with all his heart, “I will be your passion. I will give you strength.  And together, we will gain power and victory.”

 

She nods and he urges her, “Say it back to me.  Say it now!”  And yikes, that came out a little harsh.  But he is frantic to get this done in time.

 

“I will be your p-passion . . . I will give you strength . . . together, we will gain . . . power and . . . victory.”

 

He continues in a rush:  “The Force has brought us together, the Force will bind us, and the Force will set us free.  Say it!”

 

She answers the same.  “The F-Force has brought us together, the Force will b-bind us, and the Force will s-set us free.”

 

“Good,” he breathes out his relief.  Then, he grabs for her left hand and slashes it roughly across her palm with the scalpel.  As she cries out and recoils, he slashes his own left hand.  Then, Malgus reaches to clasp their bleeding hands tightly.  His wound stings but it is nothing compared to the feel of his heart breaking. 

 

Does she know what this means?  Does she believe this is real?  She has to.  So, he promises through his tears.  “Now, you are my forever love.  We are bound together in the Force.”  She’s looking at him confused, so he explains, “We are married.  That was the Sith marriage ceremony.” 

 

“Oh . . . M-Married?”  She blinks.  She looks shocked.

 

“Yes.  I am your Sith and you are my lady.” 

 

It’s probably not legal since he’s contracted to Lady Cassis and the Emperor hasn’t give his blessing.  But it is as real of a commitment as Darth Malgus will ever make in his life.  They are the Sith Lord and the slave girl, a man who craved power and a woman who had none.  She is the accidental, unsuitable, and inappropriate choice but she is everything to him.  And in these fleeting last moments, this much famed, much feared Dark Lord feels powerless in a way he hasn’t since he was a young Apprentice long ago.  For nothing humbles a Dark Lord like love.  “I love you.  I will love you forever,” he vows as he leans in for a soft kiss.

 

She can’t talk through her tears.  She just manages a nod.   

 

“The Force will set you free.”   This Lord Malgus knows for sure.  The Force will set her free of death, free of pain, free of all the obstacles that conspire to separate them.  Their culture, their class, their species.  None of that matters now at the end.  All that matters is their love.  She is dying but their love will never die.  And he tells her again, “I will love you forever.  Lady Malgus,” he chokes out, “I will mourn you and honor you all the days of my life.”

 

She nods again and whispers out a few words.  “Darker . . . more p-powerful.”

 

“Yes,” he sobs aloud.  Leena gets it.  She always gets it.  From the beginning, this woman understood him like no one else.   He voices aloud the maxim that has gotten him through some of the roughest moments of his life.  For despite all the awful events of today, his faith in the supremacy of Darkness is firm.  “Every slight, every hurt, every pain makes me Darker.  More powerful.”  He learned that wisdom as a boy Apprentice, but he knows its truth as a grown man.  He’s gripping their bleeding hands tightly now.  Something good has to come of this pain.  “Yes . . . you will make me more powerful.” 

 

His words please her, he can see from her expression.  She’s always been his cheerleader.  No more so than now at the end.  She heaves out her words in a halting, hoarse tone.  “Achieve it all . . . the galaxy  . . . the Council . . . make all the change you want . . . Do it all with power from me.  Look for me in the Force . . . ”

 

He nods and wails, “Oh, Leena--“

 

She interrupts him now.   Her words have a vehemence at odds with her obviously failing body. All this talking clearly is hastening her decline, but she looks determined.  “D-Don’t let them shame you for me.  Don’t let them c-call you weak.”

 

“I am weak,” he admits freely.  “I am weak for you and I always will be--”

 

“It is not weak to love,” she whispers.  “But t-they w-will never know that.  Give them what they w-want, Gaius.  Do it!”

 

“What??” He’s not following.  He blinks at her blankly through his tears.  “I don’t understand.”

 

So Leena says it again, her voice an ugly rasp.  “Do it!  Kill me!  Take charge . . . of our d-destiny.”

 

“What?? No!”  He is appalled.  “No!”  He sits back.

 

“Yes.”  She is adamant.  “Destroy your weakness.  I’m dying anyway.  End my suffering and tell them all that you killed me . . . that you d-destroyed your w-weakness . . . ”

 

“NO!”  He refuses to do this.  He will not give his enemies this victory.

 

She looks him in the eye and by sheer force of will Leena gets the words out in a surprisingly normal voice.  “Give me mercy and give them the sacrifice they want to see.  Prove your strength to them and I will be your s-strength in death.”

 

“No!”  He shakes his head.  Where did she get this idea?   Even if he wanted to do this, he couldn’t.  “I don’t know if I—“

 

“You can!” she hisses.  “Do it!  Control your fate!  Only w-we w-will know the truth.”

 

But killing Leena won’t kill his weakness for her.  This seems pointless.  And he has never cared much what his peers think. “I don’t know if I—“

 

“You must!   Please!  Give my death meaning.  It’s going to happen anyway.  Let me h-help you with the other Lords . . . this will e-earn their respect.  They’ll think you g-gave me up.”  Leena looks greyer and greyer by the moment.  She’s starting to tremble and shake all over now.  Is she going to seize?  This is a very bad sign.  “Please . . .” she pleads.  “D-Do this for both of us.”

 

He deliberates for a few seconds.  Malgus is enough of a strategist to see the wisdom of her idea.  Eleena Daru always has great ideas.  Her flashes of insight cut through all the extraneous stuff to the heart of the matter.  She is right, he knows, that if he ostensibly kills her that will redeem him in others’ eyes.  And just look at how she is suffering.  Malgus feels the waves of pain coming off her in the Force.  They buffet his mind.  He can end all that now, since it will end soon anyway.

 

But can he do this?

 

Should he do this?

 

What will he regret more in the end?  Doing it or not doing it?

 

“Please . . . do it . . . f-fast . . .”

 

He capitulates at her words.  For there is no love like a Sith's love, no passion like that of a Dark Lord of the Force.  These men feel nothing halfway because their emotions fuel their power.  And so, they may scheme to rule the galaxy but they in turn are ruled themselves.  That’s why a great warrior Sith Lord today will obey the command of his beloved slave woman wife.  Because there is nothing Darth Malgus will not do for this woman.  Even this last, final act.

 

He caves and nods.  “It will be instant.  I promise.”

 

She just looks at him and nods.

 

He squeezes their left hands tight as he lights his sword.  His arm is trembling and his voice too.  “This is not the end.   This is a beginning.  One day, I will join you in the Force.  We will be together forever in the Force.”

 

She nods and mouths the words, “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” he chokes out.

 

Then with eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming freely, he drives his saber into her heart. 

 

Leena doesn’t cry out, she just flinches and then sighs.  Then her hand loosens her grip as her body relaxes into death.  It is shockingly peaceful for such a violent act.  Malgus feels her essence dissolve back into the Force from which it had come.  And then, she is gone. 

 

This act is done out of love, but history will call it a betrayal.  For the Sith, it becomes a cautionary tale of love sacrificed for power, of Darkness triumphant in the end.  For the Jedi, it becomes a tragedy of a foolish madman who threw away everything for power.   But no matter the version, it is only half true.   For no one ever knows the whole truth of any love story but the lovers themselves.  Life is complicated, especially with the Lords of the Sith.  And the explanations we give others are rarely the excuses we give ourselves. 

 

Do not judge Eleena Daru the victim, because she was far more interesting than that.  She knew what she was doing, she understood the risks.  She died from wounds earned at her Sith Lord’s side, fighting for the first and only man who ever valued her.   She fought for the Empire that offered her freedom but she herself was never very political.  Her choices were always personal.   She chose love and she would choose it again if she had the chance. 

 

So would Darth Malgus the New.  He succumbs now to wracking sobs of grief.  It goes on and on.  He cries for Leena, for her entirely preventable death that he knows is no accident.  Had she received prompt care, she would have been completely fine.  Adraas is to blame, he’s certain.  He cries too for himself.  For this soul wrenching loss he has not yet begun to truly feel.  This woman made him happy like no one else in his life.   She was as unexpected as she was unique, and no one will ever replace her.  

 

Suddenly, all feels lost to him.  The glorious, long awaited victory he plotted lies abandoned.  The sacking of the Jedi Temple means nothing in the larger scheme.  Peace rules the day.  It is a bitter pill to swallow. For the Sith have forsaken their most fundamental ideals, and no one feels more betrayed than Darth Malgus.   Fallen, fallen is the Sith Empire now in every way that matters to him. 

 

He has lost the galaxy, he has lost his beloved, and he has lost his faith in his fellow Sith.   It feels like the universe is thwarting him at every turn, like his enemies from within and without have conspired against him.  Like he cannot win no matter how hard he tries. 

 

He would be a broken man except that Sith Lords do not allow themselves to break.  They are refashioned and made anew in a Darker, harder, more bitter version.  Because for a disciple of Darkness, that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.    And so, after he indulges the initial shock of this loss, he dries his tears and regains the cold stoicism he is known for.  Darth Malgus doesn’t get mad.  He gets even.   He will give his wife revenge if it’s the last thing he does.  They will pay—all of them—for his broken heart.

 

But first, Malgus reaches to unfasten the kyber crystal headband he had given Leena to hide the slave collar scar she hated.   He tucks it into his pocket.  He will carry it with him always, like the scar on his left hand.  It will become a talisman to remember Leena by.  And when he needs to bolster his power and prop up his courage, he will mediate with the headband for long hours.  Recalling the pretty alien slave woman who believed in him more than anyone else.  

 

Pulling back on his gloves, he suddenly remembers his onlooker frozen in the Force.  The Jedi woman who had tried to help Leena had witnessed the whole thing.  He ought to kill her.  But instead, Malgus releases her and decides, “Because you spared her, I will spare you.”  His eyes rake over the woman with distaste. “I have killed enough of your kind today.   It no longer matters whether you live or die.”   Now that the Empire has abandoned its ultimate goal of ruling the galaxy, he might as well let this woman live.  What’s the harm?

 

The Jedi nods at this unprecedented mercy.  She deactivates her swords.   Then she announces the cringeworthy sentiment, “There’s still Light in you.”   She says this in a tone that is slightly aghast and somewhat amazed. 

 

Lord Malgus is offended.  This is far worse than a Dark Lord calling him weak.  His retort is a harsh hiss.  “Don’t you dare try to save my Dark soul!  Safeguard your own instead.  Does your Jedi Master know you are here seeking revenge?  You pitiful fool, you couldn’t even go through with it.

 

The Jedi shakes her head and her face is grim.  “Master Zallow is dead.  He died at the Temple yesterday.” With a glare, the Jedi woman adds, “You were the one to kill him reportedly.”

 

Malgus is nonplussed. “Which one was he?”

 

“My Master was a blonde human male.  He was the greatest swordsman of the Order, even better than Battlemaster Zarach,” she brags. 

 

“I killed that Zabrak years ago,” Malgus recalls. “On Korriban.”

 

“Master Zallow was even better,” the woman says staunchly. “He would have put up a fight. A good one.”

 

“Then I did kill him.  He fought bravely.”  Thinking back, Malgus adds bitingly, “He was the one to wound my Leena.”

 

“Had I been there, you would both have been dead,” the woman boasts.

 

“I doubt that,” Malgus responds dryly. “Where were you?”

 

“Alderaan.”

 

“You got here fast.”

 

“I got here too late.”  She shoots him a resentful, rueful look.  “We were deceived by your peace overture.  We fell for your ruse.”

 

So did he.  “Jedi,” Malgus sighs in a rare moment of empathy with his enemy, “we both were deceived.  But you will get your peace in the end.” His face contorts as he confesses, “It was all for nothing.  Your Master died for nothing.  Leena died for nothing,” he chokes out.  This invasion was merely a feint. The widespread slaughter on both sides seems so unnecessary in hindsight.  

 

“The Sith are not butchers,” he laments as he stares down at his lost love who paid the ultimate price for a goal her feckless Emperor abandoned.  “We are architects of the future.   There was supposed to be a purpose to all this loss . . .”   His voice trails off in bitter disappointment.  “It was all in vain.   And not because we tried and failed, but because we lacked the resolve to follow through.   We were not Sith enough to prevail.”

 

This realization has him deeply disillusioned, even if few will ever know it.  For in the years to come, the Battle of Coruscant will be known as Darth Malgus’ most glorious, most inspired moment.  But the man himself will look back on it as the turning point when he lost everything that mattered.  Every dream he ever had died on Coruscant.  And so, when many of those dreams ultimately come to pass in the years succeeding, they will bring him scant satisfaction. 

 

The Jedi woman is still looking at him strangely.  She has the otherworldly calm composure that is characteristic of Jedi Knights.  He, in contrast, is a grief stricken, angry mess.   Malgus has a very perilous grip on his composure still.  It ought to be humiliating to be in this state in front of his enemy, but strangely it is not.  Or maybe, he’s just beyond caring at this point.   Because if his fellow Sith Lords can see his weakness for Leena, then his actual enemy might as well too.   There’s no point in saving face now.  All is lost anyway. 

 

“Oh, Leena,” he whispers and his voice cracks.  He can’t tear his eyes away from his doomed wife.

 

“There is still Light in you,” the annoying Jedi marvels aloud.  “There must be if you can love.”

 

Her misperception angers him.  He whirls to retort, “The Sith love.  Passion is our power.  It is the Jedi who are unfeeling.”  He shoots her an indignant look.  These fool Jedi cannot fathom the awesome depth of the Shadow Force.   “You know nothing of Darkness,” he dismisses her.

 

“But you know the Light,” she persists.  “Perhaps we are more alike than I thought.”

 

“I am nothing like you,” he rasps back.  “My values are nothing like yours.  I worship a different Force. I fight for victory and power.  Not democracy,” he says with a sneer. 

 

“And yet you show mercy,” she accuses, almost as if she is forgetting that she’s benefiting from it. 

 

It ticks him off. Malgus growls, “Get going before I change my mind and kill you like all the rest.”

 

“If you wish, I will see to her body,” the woman offers as she gestures awkwardly to Leena.   “I will ensure that she is buried with respect.”

 

“No,” he automatically objects. “We Sith see to our own.”   He will not leave Leena on foreign soil amid people who considered her property.  She is a citizen of the Empire and the beloved wife to a Sith Lord.   Leena will be honored appropriately amid her own kind. 

 

“Very well,” the Jedi woman answers softly.  “Then may the Force be with her.”   Aryn Leneer’s eyes find his tearstained face and linger.  “May the Force be with you too, Darth Malgus.”  The Jedi looks very quizzical now as she cryptically throws out her parting words.  “You are both everything I expected and a great deal that I did not.”

 

Was that an insult?  Malgus isn't sure. 

 

He snaps back, “Whereas you are as predictably smug as any other Jedi.  Go!”  He shoos her off.

 

Once the Jedi Knight departs, Malgus takes off his cloak to wrap Leena in it.  Then he picks her up and carries her off.   He will summon Jose to the _Absolute_ to see to Leena’s body.  But he himself sets off immediately to settle an old score made infinitely worse today.  It has festered many long years.  Too long, in fact.   But Darth Malgus will suffer it no longer. 

 

It is time to kill Darth Adraas.


	41. chapter 41

Adraas has fled. He's not with the fleet and he's nowhere to be found on Coruscant. He's not on Alderaan at the peace summit either. Malgus finally finds him back on Dromund Kaas in his cozy villa. It is especially galling to find that his enemy has blithely resumed his posh life while Malgus has lost everything.

 

He bursts through the entrance and surprises a housemaid who is talking with Lady Adraas. Instantly, the two women whirl. The lady of the house starts screaming frantically at the top of her lungs. "Cato! Cato! He's here! He's here!"

 

Her cries bring in a teenaged boy. He's a handsome kid dressed in a rich black tunic. Sizing him up, Malgus can't help but think that this privileged princeling probably doesn't spend his afternoons mucking out zoo cages and feeding animals like he did at that age. But still, this boy has courage. The Adraas kid takes one look at Darth Malgus and pulls a sword from his tunic. It's a training sword that wouldn't hurt anyone. But the boy lights it and Lady Adraas starts screaming even louder. "Cato! Heeeelp!"

 

"Stand down," Malgus orders sternly.

 

"Malgus, you're a dead man!" the kid hollers back in a voice so fervent it cracks.

 

Malgus ignores this challenge. "Take your mother and whoever else is here to safety. I didn't come here to kill women and children." This isn't war, it is revenge. And it is personal to Cato Adraas. Unlike his foe, Darth Malgus will not vent his wrath on his enemy's loved ones. He's here to kill only one man.

 

"You're a dead man!" the boy retorts. Then he charges.

 

Malgus disarms him in a single move. He looms over the sprawling kid and easily blocks his attempt at a Force push. "That was brave of you, boy. But I'm here for your father, not for you. This started long before you were born. Stay out of it," Malgus orders.

 

The kid now grits his teeth, screws up his face, and attempts to cast Force lightning. All he manages is a faint blue spark. He is crestfallen. And scared for what's coming next.

 

But Malgus repeats his earlier order. "Get your mother and whoever else is here to safety. Be a hero today by saving the others."

 

"Do what he says."

 

The voice comes from behind. It's Lord Adraas standing in an open doorway with a sword hilt in each hand. Those swords are real, Malgus knows, unlike his son's version.

 

Adraas' voice is curt. "Get your mother and your brother out of here."

 

"But I can help!" the kid yelps as he stands to his feet. "Dad, I can help!"

 

"No!" screeches Lady Adraas. She runs to the eager boy's side and starts dragging him away.

 

Adraas speaks again to his son. "Get your mother and your brother out of here. Now."

 

"But, Dad!"

 

"Do it!" Adraas hisses.

 

"Yes, Sir," the boy complies reluctantly.

 

Malgus waits in silence as the women and the boy withdraw. Lord Adraas is clearly not expecting him because he's not wearing armor. He's in a casual tunic, pants, and boots. It makes him a less than an intimidating presence. Darth Adraas is not a big man. He's average height with a wiry build and a graceful fighting style. It is the very opposite of thickset Malgus with his overpowering swing and deliberate moves.

 

Ever strategic Malgus now takes this opportunity to assess the setting. The gracious foyer they stand in is appropriately large for the Adraas family villa, but it is close quarters for a lightsaber duel. This isn't the spacious, rambling Jedi Temple with plenty of room for bold moves and Force-assisted acrobatics. This will be a down and dirty duel to the death with plenty of debris to potentially trip him up. Plus, Malgus is at a disadvantage since Adraas is fighting in his own home and knows the layout. But regardless, this is happening here and happening now. Malgus refuses to wait any longer. He approaches to slowly circle his opponent.

 

"I should have done this years ago," he snarls as Adraas lights both his swords. Malgus has hated this man for years with good reason. Had he killed him years ago, Leena would still be alive. But her loss has poured new fuel to fan the flames of his long simmering rage. Darth Malgus' forbearance has reached its limit.

 

"Why are you doing this now?" Adraas sounds almost puzzled.

 

"Leena is dead. They refused to treat her at the civilian hospital where you dumped her. She bled to death slowly from internal injuries."

 

"This is about your alien whore?" Darth Adraas looks almost offended that Leena is the cause that precipitates this confrontation many years in the making. "Such a pity. Well," he says dismissively, "such are the fortunes of war. Many died on Coruscant. She's just one more to add to the tally."

 

"She was not killed by the enemy. She was killed by you," Malgus accuses.

 

Adraas sniffs. "I did not shoot her nor did I deny her care."

 

"You ordered her left at a civilian hospital!" Malgus roars. "Among our enemies in a time of war!"

 

Adraas just shrugs. "Our forces had overtaken that local hospital. She was to be treated with the rest of our injured."

 

"The medics removed our wounded to a medical ship. All our wounded were evacuated except Leena. She was left behind to die!"

 

Again, his foe shrugs. "I was at the Senate by then. That was not my decision."

 

"It was your decision to leave her behind in the first place! She should have been evacuated from the Temple with the rest of the injured from the raid. You are responsible!" Malgus seethes. "Today, you will die for what you have done!"

 

"For a slave?" Adraas is incredulous. "Malgus, at most I owe you some credits for the loss of your property."

 

"She was my wife!"

 

"Your wife?" Adraas has the gall to laugh. It's an ugly, scoffing noise. "Oh, really, Malgus, that's pathetic. Does Lord Serevin know?"

 

Malgus fumes. This man killed Vindican's daughter. He is responsible for Leena's death. He has dogged Malgus personally and politically with taunts and slights for years. Undermining him, plotting against him, disobeying his orders, subverting the chain of command, and stealing credit for himself. Adraas trades on his aristocratic name and considerable connections instead of his merit. For in truth, this man's skills are nothing special. Only in the entrenched pedigree obsessed culture of the Sith would this man rise to any degree of power.

 

"I'm through tolerating you," Malgus growls. "This ends today."

 

With those words, the battle begins.  Malgus attacks hard and his opponent is ready for it.  Immediately, their red swords are a dizzying blur and buzz.  The sound of lightsabers connecting is distinctive, but the feel of them clashing is like nothing else.  The static energy of the plasma blade meets the kinetic energy of the swing meets the universal energy of the Force.  This is raw Dark power fighting for dominance in a duel to the death. 

 

Adraas fights with two swords using a common form.  He proficient, but nothing special.  Darth Adraas’ skills are sufficient to overpower the run-of-the-mill Jedi scholars and retirees left behind at the Coruscant home office during wartime. But his repetitive passes and predictable moves make him a lackluster foe to an experienced Sith duelist.  Still, he is quick, Malgus judges.  And that keeps Malgus on his toes as he leaps back from a vicious stab.

 

As usual, Darth Adraas can’t stop running at the mouth.  He condescends as he swings, “Haven’t you figured out that you’re just a tool?   That you are merely Angral’s consultant for strategy?  That in battle you are little more than the hired gun mercenaries you employ?  No one told you the real plan on Coruscant.  No one bothered because we didn’t want to sit through another one of your long lectures.”

 

Adraas now feints left but Malgus anticipates this and meets him immediately on the right.  He strikes with hard, punishing strokes that batter Adraas’ swords.  All the while Malgus remains silent, refusing to be baited.  But loudmouth Adraas keeps on talking.  He gloats over what happened at Coruscant.  “Did it never occur to you to wonder why I wanted in on the action at the Jedi Temple?   I knew the ground assault would be quickly aborted.  We were never going to seek complete victory.  The Emperor had already decided against it.”  Adraas has an ugly grin as he sneers, “The ruse was as much on you as it was on the Republic. And it was your idea in the first place.  Oh, the irony.”  

 

Darth Malgus doesn’t bother answering with words.  He answers with his sword, coming in fast from the left.  His blade is a red streak spinning as it swings for Adraas’ head.  But it is deflected just in time.

 

If Adraas is intimidated by the close call, he doesn’t show it.  “Malgus, you are terrible at playing the game of power.  It’s almost amusing to watch you flailing around with all your gruff earnestness.   Preaching about destroying the Republic like we’re all schoolchildren learning civics.”

 

That barb scores a hit.  “We waited three hundred years to reclaim our rightful place in the galaxy,” Malgus grouses. 

 

“We can wait three hundred more,” Adraas says flippantly.   “Really . . . all your zeal is tiresome.  It’s the fight that matters, not the goal.  Fighting is our way of life.   If we win, it’s over.  Can’t you see that?”

 

Yes, fighting is what matters to men like Adraas, Malgus thinks.   It’s why they waste their time on petty intrigues and infighting.  They have no real aspirations other than themselves.  And that is not the basis for a valiant, resilient, vibrant Empire.   “Peace betrays all our values!” Malgus growls.  “The point of war is to win!”

 

“Wrong.  The point of war is to fight and to not lose.  That’s something different from winning.  But when the Republic invaded Ziost, we had to rethink things because everyone including you knew that meant we might lose.   Peace buys us time to restart the war on our own terms.”

 

“Peace betrays all our values!” Malgus repeats.  He believes this to his core.   Abandoning the Coruscant invasion was a mistake.  Victory was within their grasp and they let it go.

 

As the duel continues, it begins methodically destroying their elegant setting.  Malgus now swings hard but Adraas ducks and his sword slices through a stone column instead.  Adraas hurls the debris right back at him with the Force.  It’s a classic diversionary tactic that is more annoying than effective. 

 

Soon they are locked in a battle of Force pushes, each with an arm extended and their power outstretched to resist against the other.  It is a contest of wills to see who blinks first.  Adraas takes the opportunity to take a swing and Malgus momentarily loses his concentration.  He gets himself thrown across the room for it.  Luckily, he has his battle armor on to absorb the impact.  But he’s on his feet quickly to block gleeful Adraas’ charge. 

 

“The Emperor just pays lip service to ruling the galaxy.   It keeps the common man volunteering as cannon fodder.  And it keeps the true believers like you in line.” Malgus shakes his head and grits his teeth.  “I hate you.  I hate you for what you have done.  For who you are.  And for everything you represent.”  He’s done with this war of words.  Malgus gets down to business.

 

The one thing Adraas has going for him is that he is very adept at defending against disarming passes.   Malgus has tried three times unsuccessfully so far.  So the master strategist Darth Malgus changes things up.  He decides to abandon his goal of knocking one of his foe’s swords from his grasp.  Enough with the fancy dueling passes.  When Malgus strikes next, it’s not with his sword, it’s with his power.   

 

The hate has been swelling in him ever since the confrontation on Coruscant with Angral.  In the wake of Leena’s death and the betrayals surrounding it, Darth Malgus is completely overflowing with Darkness.  It’s a mix of anger, outrage, fear, despair, and hopelessness.  He is every Dark emotion all at once.  It makes him especially powerful.  The Shadow Force leaps to do his bidding as all that pain channels into power.  Malgus has to struggle for a moment to keep his equilibrium when the Dark Side answers his call.  Because when it kicks in, it is a heady rush.  

 

Lightning streams from his left hand in a torrent of deadly fury.   This is the raw elemental power of the Dark Side.  This is the rage of Darth Malgus made manifest.  Its newfound intensity is a testament to how deeply Leena’s loss and the events of Coruscant have scarred him.  And all of that Darkness is focused on killing Darth Adraas.  

 

His amplified power is as much as surprise to his foe as it is to Lord Malgus.  Adraas gapes as he struggles to deflect the lightning with both his swords.  They stay like that locked in combat a long moment before Malgus relents.   He simply has to take a deep breath and collect himself before things get out of control.  Because a power move like that should deplete him.  But it doesn’t.  It is frankly a little scary how easy that felt.  Like he could go on doing that forever.

 

“My Gods, you are powerful.”  For the first time, Adraas looks scared. Malgus quickly presses his advantage.  “Your understanding of the Force is nothing compared to mine.  Your skill is politics. In currying favor and taking credit for other’s work.  You and your kind will be the downfall of the Sith!  You care more for one upping each other than for defeating the enemy.”

 

And now again, Malgus hits Adraas with a blast of lightning.  It knocks one sword from his adversary’s grip.   Instantly, Malgus retrieves the weapon with the Force and slices it in two with his own.  Now both men are down to one saber. 

 

The loss of his left sword throws Adraas off his stride.  He’s used the fighting two handed with swaying balance.  Now, Malgus definitely has the advantage.  With his right hand swinging his sword and his left hand shooting bolts of Force lightning, Malgus begins an onslaught of rapid attacks. 

 

“You’ve been hiding your power!” struggling Adraas accuses.

 

“No,” Malgus counters calmly.  “Your arrogance blinds you.  You and your kind seldom recognize true merit.”  And besides, Malgus has earned this power through heartbreak and disillusionment.  Dark power now churns around him, it resides in him, and it emanates from him.  It is all so strangely effortless.  No longer does it feel like he calls upon the Force for assistance.   Instead, it feels like he is one with the Force.  Like he has merged with it.  And that makes him feel invincible.  Unstoppable.  Like he has unlimited power and infinite stamina.

 

Sensing victory, Malgus piles on with more and more lightning.  Adraas is on his back defenseless and writhing before long.  But still, Malgus does not relent.  He ought to stop and end this quickly and cleanly with a saber thrust.  It’s not like him to be so gratuitous.  But this power is so easy and it feels so good.  And watching Adraas fry is very satisfying.  So Malgus gives in to this orgy of sadism.  He wants to see this man die and to savor it.   Finally, he desists.  Ripping off his gloves and casting aside his own sword, Malgus reaches out with Force to call the faltering body of Darth Adraas into his grip.   “I have waited a long time for this,” Malgus growls as he squeezes hard.  “Feel my wrath and meet the Force.”  Then slowly, deliberately, he chokes Adraas to death with his bare hands.   Because this contest is far more than the usual politics and positioning amid the pecking order.  This duel is deeply personal.

 

There is no last gasp, no final epithet.  Darth Adraas, a man of too many words, most of them rash, dies silently.

 

Malgus leaves the body in a heap on the floor amid the shambles of the Adraas family villa.  Within hours, news of the deadly duel is everywhere in the Empire.  But, as Malgus expects, there are no official repercussions.  Not that he would care, anyway.  All of Sith elite society just shrugs at the news.  ‘It’s about time’ is the prevailing sentiment.  Everyone anticipated that things would end up this way eventually.  The only surprise is that it took decades to happen.  

 

The elation of his victory over Adraas fades quickly as the reality of Leena’s loss sinks in.  Because while he’s supposed to crave power above all things, Lord Malgus would trade all his newly amplified abilities to regain his lost love.  But that’s not how the Force works.  At least, not until many generations hence when a Dark Lord with a mind attuned more to science than war will discover the ultimate trick.  That esteemed Sith Lord will learn to keep the ones he cares about from dying.  All except the one he cares about the most, of course.   For that is the bitter truth of the Dark Side—that with power comes sacrifice.   That tradeoff mostly explains why there are few happy endings among the Lords of the Sith. 

 

“She’s dead.  I killed her.”   Malgus speaks these five words and nothing further on the topic of Eleena Daru.   He speaks them only to Serevin, to Angral, and later to Azamin.  After that, Darth Malgus keeps his silence.

 

But the bold attack on the Jedi Temple, the deadly duel with Darth Adraas, even the scandalous whispers about a pet Twi’lek slave woman, all keep Lord Malgus’ name on the tip of everyone’s tongue.  Gossip runs rampant in the wake of the peace deal reached on Alderaan.  For no one knows what will happen next and who the power players in peacetime will be.  Plus, Dark Lords like Malgus are men about whom stories are told and retold.  Each time with a bit more embellishment.  For this is a Sith Lord many want to claim to know or to have served under.   Everyone thinks they have the real scoop about Darth Malgus.  But they don’t.  Only two people know, and now one is dead and the other won’t talk. 

 

Lord Malgus has a vested interest in not correcting the lurid story that eventually emerges about him and Leena.  It has some basis in the truth.  It goes like this:  Darth Malgus the New is a brutal, cold man to both his enemies and his allies alike.  He once bought a pretty slave woman on a whim.  He beat her and raped her and belittled her just like you would expect.  She was a plaything and a whipping boy all rolled into one.  She was kept locked away on his space station or on his great ship. He let her out only to fight at his back like he had trained her.  Darth Malgus loved to watch her kill, they say.   And she killed for him just like she did everything else he asked.  She stood by ready to indulge his every gratuitous whim, whether it was sex or violence.  Eleena Daru was unquestioningly obedient, quiet, and demure.  Completely controlled by her Sith Lord Master whom she both feared and adored. 

 

Over time, the story morphs Leena into a very young, impossibly beautiful, alien femme fatale in bondage.  This version checks all the boxes when it comes to male fantasies.  But it only slightly resembles the flesh and blood woman Eleena Daru really was.  But no one wants to hear about a very pretty, chubby accountant who captured the heart of a Sith Lord when she first met his dogs.  That’s not how fairytales go, especially the twisted Sith variety.

 

Supposedly, Lord Malgus told the wretched woman that he loved her—Dark Lords are manipulative and deceptive like that.  She believed him, of course, because what else could she do?   In the end, he tired of her when the novelty had run its course.  He feared that his enemies would use her against him.  That his obsessive attachment to her had made him weak.  Plus, more than once she had shamed him by publicly alluding to the relationship.  So Darth Malgus rid himself of Eleena Daru by stabbing her through the heart.  He could be heartless and cruel like that.  He refused to grant her mercy and simply set her free to live her life without him.  And what do you expect?  It’s Malgus.  He killed his Master, he killed his lover, he killed his rival, and he killed so many Jedi that even he lost count.  All of his contemporaries are both envious and appalled.  

 

And as for the rumor that Darth Malgus slashed his slave lover’s hand before he killed her?   Well, that is obviously false.  A Sith Lord would not marry a slave woman any more than he would marry a desert scavenger from Jakku, a disgraced Jedi researcher presumed dead, or a down-on-her luck ballet dancer who moonlights as a stripper.   These princes of the Shadow Force are proud and they have standards to uphold.  Especially where their women are concerned.  So whoever told you that was clearly lying.  In fact, shortly after he killed the slave woman, Lord Malgus married Lord Serevin’s daughter.

 

That last part is jarring, but true.  Barely a month after Coruscant, Lord Malgus finds himself in the ritual chamber of the main temple on Dromund Kaas.  He is standing opposite Darth Serevin’s widowed daughter.  His beautiful bride is dressed in the sheer traditional wedding gown, her blood red skin peeking through.  Behind her the altar where they will consummate their union is strewn with delicate white flowers.  They are alone, in keeping with the long heritage of marriages made in secret.  Moonlight filters down from a tall skylight, bathing them both in its silvery glow.  All in all, it is a lovely setting, appropriately Sith.  Everything is perfect except it is all wrong. 

 

This second Lady Malgus will never hold a candle to the original.  Lady Cassis has all the refinement and pedigree one could want and beauty to spare.  But her skin should be blue and not red, her face should be soft and not hard, and her body should be lush and not lean.  She should be a slave and not a lady, a cherished lover and not a bargained for bride.  She should mean everything to him, but instead she means nothing.  This wife is one more status symbol for Malgus to procure and rely on others to upkeep.

 

This forever commitment should feel more important, too.  The marriage ritual will irrevocably bind him to Lady Cassis until death.  Plus, it solidifies his entree into the Sith aristocracy that has shunned him for so long.  But despite all the negotiations leading up to this moment, it is anti-climactic.  Nothing about this achievement feels satisfying.  Even this morning when a wedding gift arrived at his villa from the Emperor himself, Lord Malgus had been glum.  All the signs are there to show how much progress this marriage will bring him.  But suddenly this strategic power play feels especially empty.  Maybe even wrong.  Still . . . it’s too late to back out now. 

 

So as he speaks the age old promises, Darth Malgus could be talking about the weather for all it matters.  His bride too looks similarly disengaged.  As he slashes her left palm and then his own, he is careful to place the new cut to make it distinct from the previous one.  For there is only one true marriage in his mind and Malgus will not equate in any way this legal bond with his love for Leena.  Tonight is business.  He is fulfilling a contract and nothing more.  After the vows, they quickly go through the motions of sex and it’s done.   The ritual is over and now it’s time for the party.

 

The elite of Sith society are all in attendance at the elegant reception afterwards.  In a strange irony lost on everyone but Lord Malgus, this wedding is something of a proxy celebration of the war’s end.    Darth Serevin is the celebrated man of the hour for his peace deal.  Lord Malgus’ attack on the Coruscant Jedi Temple is now the stuff of legend.  The union of these two families seems fitting now. 

 

His star is rising at long last.  Suddenly, everyone wants to be his friend and to bend his ear.  Dark Lords who once conspicuously turned their backs at his sight now seek him out eagerly.  Their transparency disgusts him.  All of it disgusts him.  Looking around, Malgus curls his lip.  The closer he is to the Sith Establishment, the farther he is from the true values of Darkness.   In the wake of Coruscant, Malgus no longer craves the acceptance and respect of his peers.   He disdains them all.  And none more so than ancient Darth Vitiate who resides in near perpetual seclusion in his fortress across town.   That night, Malgus is especially taciturn but Lady Cassis says all the right things.  Somehow, they get through it. 

 

After the pretense of a honeymoon period is over, they will go their separate ways.   Lady Malgus will remain on Dromund Kaas to rear his stepsons and spend his credits.  He will devote his days to war and return periodically to the space station he calls home.  There, as on the _Absolute_ , Malgus plans to surround himself with memories to fuel his power.   For the aching pain of Leena’s loss is ever fresh.  He will channel it deep and wallow in it so that she will always be with him.  Eleena Daru is seared into his heart forever like the still pink scar on his left hand that he will wear always. 

 

Lady Cassis knows of his grief.  She surprises Malgus by her tacit understanding of the situation.  At one point, she even politely offers to buy him another Twi’lek.  But that gesture might be her way of making sure that he doesn’t attempt to transfer his affections and attentions to her.   His marriage is exceedingly arm’s length and Lady Malgus likes it that way. 

 

With peace established, one-hundred-fifty-year-old Darth Azamin decides to retire.  He tells his Emperor, his tells the others on the Dark Council, and then he tells Darth Malgus whom he summons that very night to his stately villa on Dromund Kaas.  Take my place on the Council, old Azamin intones, as he offers the brass ring Darth Malgus has long sought.   In recognition of your many contributions to the Empire and in honor of your role as the brains of the Coruscant operation, the Emperor has sent me to appoint you as my replacement.  The Empire will have need of your expertise in the future.  For you know as well as I do, Darth Azamin confides, that peace is a lie.  War is inevitable.

 

This opportunity is the crowning achievement of any Sith Lord’s career.  It is a much coveted position.  Moreover, a seat on the Dark Council, like his new marriage to Serevin’s daughter, represents acceptance into the inner circle of Sith society.  It puts Darth Malgus at the very top of the power hierarchy, right below Emperor Vitiate himself.   He will be the ultimate insider.

 

It ought to be gratifying. 

 

He wishes it were fulfilling.

 

But it’s not.  For such is the magnitude of Lord Malgus’ disillusionment.   These days, he is Darker and more powerful in the Force than ever.  He is firmly ensconced in the social and political power structure of the Empire.  But he has moved beyond his role as the disgruntled, reform-minded outsider.  Now he is the disgusted, increasingly checked-out insider.  Because it all feels too little, too late.  

 

Perhaps, grieving Malgus mopes, these ambitions were the wrong goals all along.  In hindsight, he worries that there is no point in attempting to get ahead by working from within the system.  All that does is grind you down. Suddenly, you are tasked with incremental change that bolsters the status quo rather than upends it.  And over time, nothing changes except you.  You become the bastion of the Establishment you originally wanted to reform. 

 

Cynically, Malgus worries that the offer of the Dark Council seat is designed to placate him.  To give him some skin in the game so he won’t take the radical steps he is contemplating.  Because more and more, he thinks it might be better to tear down what is left of the Sith Empire and start anew.  But he’s no traitor.  And so, part of him thinks it might be best just to walk away. 

 

He’s been toying with these ideas for some time now.  And now, the surprise offer of a Council seat forces the issue.  So he and the surprisingly avuncular Darth Azamin talk late into the night that evening. 

 

This isn’t some midlife crisis, Malgus contends to the elder Sith.  This is a confluence of preexisting factors and long simmering conflicts come to fruition.  Quite simply, in the wake of the sacking of Coruscant, nothing is the same.  Even before the aborted invasion, he had begun questioning his commitment going forward.  But now, Malgus finds it hard to justify continuing in his current role.  He is frustrated and disappointed and profoundly let down by the Emperor and the Council.  And when you layer on top of that the soul crushing loss of Leena, Darth Malgus feels a hopelessness he did not see coming. 

 

It is a daunting thing for a man of his drive and ambition to feel so lost.  

 

It is a dangerous thing, too. For a Sith Lord of his standing with a bad attitude should not be discounted.

 

When Darth Malgus departs that night, he turns the Council appointment down.  He is respectful but firm:   he refuses to serve a regime that betrays its core values.  He will not sit on the Council nor will he serve in the navy as a Sith Lord.  He quits.  He’s done.

 

News travels fast.  By morning, he has a summons to the palace for a private audience with the Emperor himself. 

 


	42. chapter 42

“Arise, Lord Malgus.”

 

The voice is cultured and quiet.  The words are spoken slowly.  And that’s fitting because this is not a man who needs to yell.  Plus, at well over a thousand years old, the eternal Emperor is not a man in a hurry.  Time is on his side.

 

Malgus stands to his feet.  He blinks a bit as his eyes adjust to the sepulchral gloom of the audience chamber.   The Emperor sits on high, naturally.  Darth Vitiate is a shadowy figure in a cloak, barely distinguishable from the empty dark space that surrounds him.  Supplicants to this man, the ultimate and forever Dark Lord of the Sith, must approach to kneel before the dais in formal obeisance.  In contrast to their leader, the visitors are brightly lit by a shaft of light from high above.  It serves to blind and obscure their vision further. 

 

From his vantage point, the Emperor sees all.  But his guests see very little.   The metaphor is not lost on Lord Malgus.

 

The only other time he has been summoned to the Emperor’s presence was many years ago when he was promoted to the rank of Sith Lord.  The ceremony had not gone well.  Malgus had stood last in a long line of young men receiving the same accolade.  It is an important day when a man receives his title and those who helped to rear him are honored as well.  And so, the other Apprentices were each flanked by their Master.  Most were accompanied by their Sith Lord father as well.  But not Malgus.   He had stood alone.

 

When his name was called, Malgus stepped forward to kneel before his Emperor.  He said the words of supplication and bowed his head.   And that’s when the figure up on the high throne deviated from the usual script of ordering him to rise using his new title ‘Darth.’  Instead, the Emperor spoke out, “Where is your Master, boy?”

 

‘Boy’—not ‘lord’—young Malgus had winced inwardly at this very public diss.  But he had dutifully answered, “Dead at Korriban, your Excellency.” 

 

“Killed by the Jedi?”

 

“No.  Killed by me.”

 

“The Apprentice does not promote himself to Master.”  The Emperor had spoken his words especially slowly for emphasis.  “That privilege is mine.”

 

This remark seemed to expect a reply, so young Malgus dutifully acknowledged, “Yes, Excellency.”

 

“If there is no Master, then where is your father?” the Emperor demanded.  And that’s when things really became uncomfortable.

 

“I have no father.”

 

In hindsight, it was a poor choice of words.   “You are a child of the Force?   You are the Sith’ari overlord long prophesized?  You will be the one to destroy us to make us more powerful?”  These sarcastic words had an ugly, dismissive edge to their tone.

 

His Emperor was mocking him.  Young Malgus had responded stiffly, “No, Excellency.  I have a stepfather, but he is not a Lord.”   Only Dark Lords get to enter the Emperor’s presence for ceremonies such as this.  The absence of a father for a sponsor was glaring evidence of Lord Malgus’ parvenu status.

 

“And what is your stepfather, boy?”

 

“He is a civilian biologist.”  Malgus had put the best spin possible on his humble yeoman background.   “He is in the Imperial Science Bureau.”

 

“What does he do there to serve the Empire?”

 

And that was the really awkward part.  “He is a zookeeper.”

 

“I see.   How quaint.   Well, I suppose the Force amuses itself when it sends us a random now and then.“  The Emperor then addressed the others present.  “Welcome this newcomer, my lords.  This . . . Darth Malgus.   We shall watch his career with great interest.”

 

There had been a few chuckles from the Dark Council members in attendance.   And then, the attention of the Emperor had moved on.   The zookeeper’s adopted son who slew his Master was of little consequence. 

 

That unfortunate interview was decades ago. Now, Darth Malgus approaches his Emperor with a completely different frame of mind.  No longer does he seek approval and respect.  He could care less if his Emperor is impressed.  Malgus views Darth Vitiate with the same disgust as the rest of his Sith Lord brethren.   His only goal today is to survive this private audience.  And for that, his strategy is to blank his mind to make it hard to skim his true thoughts.  For the treason he contemplates will surely get him killed.

 

He is here for a dressing down.  And sure enough, the Emperor gets right to it.  “You killed your Master.  You killed your rival.  You slew a temple full of Jedi in the heart of their capital city.  Lord Malgus, you are indeed a fearsome warrior.”  

 

Nothing.  Malgus will not relax his mental stance lest his utter contempt leak through.

 

“I have need of a fearsome warrior on my Council,” the Emperor continues.  “And yet, you decline the honor you have so long sought.”

 

Nothing.   Malgus thinks of nothing.

 

“Why?”

 

“I have no wish to be a voice of dissent.”  Malgus says this as respectfully as possible.  Because really he means that he no longer gives a damn what happens to the Sith Empire.  For such is his disillusionment. 

 

The Emperor finds his answer disingenuous.  “You have long been a voice of dissent.  A rather loud and persistent one.  Why does it trouble you now to set yourself in opposition to others?”

 

Malgus considers how best to answer this.  He takes his time.

 

“Well?”  The Emperor is impatient.  “Speak freely but do not dare lie to me.”

 

There is no point in hiding his thoughts any longer, Malgus judges.  He’s going to have to speak them aloud anyway.  Well, so be it.  As usual, Lord Malgus tells it like it is.  “I reject the current war strategy.  I reject peace.”

 

“So do I,” the Emperor answers mildly.  “Peace is a lie.  There will be no true peace.  It doesn’t exist.  It is a ruse for the Republic to believe for a time in exchange for them withdrawing from Ziost.” 

 

As far as Malgus is concerned, that is a non-answer.  Because forcing the Republic to surrender would have driven them out of Ziost.  Whatever game the Emperor is playing by agreeing to this veneer of peace, Malgus wants no part of it.  “We gave up the opportunity to rule the galaxy for this sham peace.  We betrayed our values and scorned the sacrifice of millions for this illusion.”  Malgus raises his heretofore respectfully lowered eyes and glares into the hazy darkness above him.  With a clenched jaw, he spits out his words.  “I reject this peace.”

 

“Your objection is noted,” the Emperor calmly allows.  “Now that you’ve gotten that out, you are free to serve on my Council.”

 

Malgus glares some more.  He has given up any pretense of deference now.  “I reject this peace, and I reject the men who made it.”

 

“Meaning?” Darth Vitiate’s voice is a goading purr. 

 

“I will not serve on the Dark Council and I will no longer serve in the navy.”

 

“You quit?”

 

“I quit,” Malgus confirms.

 

The Emperor considers for a moment.  “Those are bold words from a bold man.  But they are your grief talking. Yes . . .” he muses, “I see it.  You grieve your wife.  Yes, I know you married your alien slave woman.”

 

Malgus does not deny it.  He no longer cares what anyone thinks and he’s way past making apologies.  This Sith Lord has long had a chip on his shoulder, but now he has a very bad attitude to go with it.

 

It is unprecedented, but Darth Vitiate now climbs down from his high throne.  When he comes into clear view, his face is still half veiled by his hood.  All that’s visible is his bearded lower jaw.  The rest of Darth Vitiate remains a mystery.  He’s taller than Malgus expected, as he measures the Emperor’s current host body against his own.  But far less massive than himself.

 

Darth Vitiate lives in perpetual seclusion. No one knows what he looks like currently because he stopped making public appearances centuries ago.  Moreover, Lord Vitiate prefers telepathic communication.  He only interacts physically with a few cronies and the members of the Dark Council.  And so, this unprecedented approach is indeed an honor.  Still . . . for all Malgus knows, this is how the Emperor likes to begin an execution.  

 

But Darth Vitiate surprises him by speaking casually, as if this is a social occasion and they are good friends.  “My condolences on your loss,” the Emperor with a tone of sincerity.  “Would it surprise you to know that I understand love?”

 

Wary Malgus makes no reply. 

 

“I too lost my beloved.   She loved another man.  A lesser man who was her husband.  He was willing to step aside but she would not give him up in her heart.  In the end, I had to kill her the same as you killed your love.”

 

Where is he going with this?  Malgus remains silent. 

 

The Emperor steps closer now and he explains softly, “I regretted it came to that, but your mother was a stubborn woman.”

 

Darth Vitiate lets that statement hang in the air. 

 

Malgus’ eyes narrow, but he keeps his silence.  He refuses to react.

 

“Search your feelings.  You know it to be true.”  The Emperor steps closer still into the bright shaft of light that shines from above.  They are only a meter apart now.  Then, with a casual gesture so like his own, the Emperor tosses back his hood.  The move reveals the face of a man in his later years but still vigorous and far from feeble.  He is white pale like Malgus himself, and this is no surprise.  Neither are the feral yellow eyes.  But unlike himself, the Emperor still has a full head of light brown hair to match his beard. Both are abundant, but heavily streaked with grey.  None of that is particularly noteworthy.  It’s the man’s age lined features that catch the eye. 

 

They are disconcertingly familiar.

 

“There is a likeness, no?”

 

Stone faced Malgus does not reply.  He just looks at the heavy, lowered brow.  At the deep-set eyes.  At the downturned lips in a perpetual sneer.  This man has high cheekbones and a slightly aquiline nose to match.  Altogether, these are vaguely handsome features, but rough chiseled and not finely made.  For there is nothing pretty about Emperor Vitiate.

 

“The resemblance has become more pronounced over the years.  As a young man, you favored your mother more.  But in your prime, you look like me.  It’s your temperament that is all your mother.”

 

Malgus still refuses to speak.  He’s not sure what to say anyway.

 

But the Emperor is in a mood to talk.  He’s clearly pleased with his big reveal.  “I have many children,” Vitiate refers to his scores of Force-attuned military operatives he brainwashes as infants and controls as adults, “but I only have a few biological children.  You, Lord Malgus, are one of them.  Welcome home, my son.”

 

And there it is, said overtly.  Malgus swallows hard.  So . . . this is the answer to the riddle of why he was born and not aborted in the womb.  Did his doomed mother fear to kill the Emperor’s child?  Was she forced to bear him before she was killed?  Malgus’ mind is racing even though he is outwardly unmoved.  But he knows all the while that a man as perceptive in the Force as Darth Vitiate is not fooled.

 

“I have watched you from afar all your life.  Seeing you struggle and grow.  You had none of the advantages your birth might have afforded you, but you rose all the same.  Greatness was born into you.”  The Emperor takes measure of him and nods his smug approval.  “I knew you would turn out well.”

 

Malgus just blinks at these words.  So . . . the Sith Lord who abandoned him to obscurity was the Emperor himself.  Perhaps this should be welcome news.  Or perhaps he should be angry about the situation.  But truthfully, Darth Malgus cannot summon the emotion to care.  For all passion has deserted him.  In the wake of the loss of Leena, Malgus is simply numb.  Nothing matters anymore.

 

Vitiate keeps talking.  “You have my Force.  Not as much as I had hoped, but you’ve got plenty.  You mother was never much for the Force.  She enjoyed people rather than power.”

 

Is that his cue to ask about his mother?  Malgus refuses to take the bait.  None of this history matters now.  He refuses to allow himself to be manipulated with it.

 

And sure enough, the wily Emperor invites again, “I ask you now:   will you take your place on the Dark Council?  One day, we might rule the galaxy together as father and son.   Come,” he holds out his hand, “take the first step to fulfilling your destiny, Lord Malgus.” 

 

Malgus looks the Emperor in the eye as he responds, “No.”  He’s no fool.  He knows that Vitiate has no intention of ever sharing power.   He’s just looking for another stooge to serve as his glorified lackey.  He wants to coax his would-be enemy back into the fold with promises of parentage and position.  Here is all the insider status that his younger self would have craved.  But no more.  It’s all too little, too late.  “No,” Malgus stubbornly repeats.

 

Darth Vitiate shoots him a reproachful look as he pulls back up his hood.  Then he intones gravely, “It is unavoidable.  I have foreseen it,” before he climbs back up to his throne.  From there, he offers sage advice like a father should in times like this.  “Pain empowers,” Vitiate quotes chapter and verse of Sith teaching.  “Every slight and every snub you have received.  Every injury and every hurt you have endured.   Every loss and every defeat you have weathered.  They make you stronger.  Darker.”

 

Yes, he knows.  Darth Malgus has lived those words for decades now.  He doesn’t need this lecture.  Especially not from this thoroughly disappointing man.  For putting his dubious claim to paternity aside, Darth Vitiate is a failure as Emperor in all the ways that matter.  He might be overpowered in the Force but he is sorely lacking in vision.   The Emperor’s remote leadership style and his insistence on near godlike status have not endeared him to Lord Malgus.

 

It particularly annoys him when Vitiate keeps harping on Leena.  It’s a sensitive topic.  “How angry you are.   How aggrieved.  Use that hate.   You are known as a cold man,” the Emperor observes, “but I know better.  You loved that woman.” 

 

Is that an accusation? Is he being mocked?   Called weak and softhearted?   Malgus rejects those labels just like he rejects peace.  “I killed her!” he hisses.  “I did not hesitate.  I showed no mercy.” 

 

“Liar.  Her death was mercy.  Do not bother to deny it.”

 

Malgus fumes in silence at this rebuke.

 

But Emperor Vitiate isn’t finished.  “You put a slave on a pedestal and broke your own heart.  Such a foolish choice.  My son, we are not men meant to love.  The struggle for power dominates our lives.  Still . . . to kill the one you love is a test of strength.   And you passed, Lord Malgus.  For that fortitude, you have earned my respect.   Well done, my son.  Well done.”  

 

With that magnanimity out of the way, Vitiate gets back to criticism.  “You show great promise but you have much to learn.  You lead the common man ably enough, but you cannot lead the Lords.  Our brethren are not so easily led.  But a stint on the Council will teach you leadership.”

 

“No.”  Those ambitions are gone.  Malgus is done playing the game to amass power and position.   That’s why he’s here.  He quits.   He doesn’t give a damn whether he’s the Emperor’s secret son or not.  Anything this man can promise him will be a means to manipulate him.   But still, he wonders . . . what exactly has the Emperor foreseen that has him dangling the prospect of power before him now?

 

“It is time for me to complete your training,” Vitiate persists.  “We will both benefit.”

 

But Malgus is nearly forty-eight years old and he’s been a Dark Lord for twenty-five years.  He’s well past training age and he doesn’t need a father figure.   Especially not one so disappointing as this man.  So he reminds the Emperor, “I killed my last Master.”  It’s a not so subtle threat.

 

But to Malgus’ consternation, his remark provokes a chuckle.  “I have always enjoyed your daring, Lord Malgus.  You can always be counted on to say what you think and to say what everyone else fears to admit.  It reminds me of myself.  But you should know better than to try my patience.  I see your grief,” Vitiate continues, “and therefore I will excuse your insolence and refrain from indulging your reckless death wish.”

 

Vitiate waves a dismissive hand at him now. “Fine.  You may resign your naval command and teach at the war college for now.  Go pout until you are bored.  Then come back and take your place on my Council.”

 

“No.” Malgus stands his ground.   Besides, he’s no professor. 

 

Darth Vitiate now deigns to offer a second option. “Then you may nurture your power with a residency at the Temple while you reconsider your career choices.”

 

“No.”  He’s no priest.  And there is nothing to reconsider.  He quits.

 

“My son, our fates are intertwined.  It is unavoidable.  I have foreseen it.”  Emperor Vitiate sounds almost kindly now instead of angry as expected.  “I never abandoned you.  I have always been in the background.  Long have I been waiting to approach you.  Finally, the time is right.”

 

And suddenly, it dawns on Malgus.  Vitiate was never going to let the Empire win at Coruscant because then Malgus could claim a large part of that victory for his own.   Because the entire Sith military knows of his longtime, unpopular stance on invading the Core.  Maybe the Emperor had his own strategic reasons to abort the conquest of the Republic, but Malgus can’t shake the feeling that thwarting his rise was part of it.  And that is a galling suspicion, for his whole life this man who now calls himself his father has put obstacles in his way to undermine him. 

 

From the closely guarded secret of his illegitimacy, to his castoff humble upbringing, to his obvious indifference as a parent, Coruscant was just more of the same.  Since his birth, this man has conspired to keep him down when a true parent would have lifted him up.  Were those all strikes against him just a series of tests?  Did Malgus need to prove himself worthy in order to be acknowledged?  Or is there something entirely different afoot here? 

 

Could Vitiate be scared of him? 

 

Once again, Malgus wonders what the Emperor has foreseen in the Force.  Did he bury in obscurity the unwanted son who he fears might one day supplant him?  Only to have the Force conspire to undo his careful plans?

 

Well, whatever.  None of this matters.  Malgus is done with this interview.  He peers up at the high throne with its murky occupant.  Ever the tactician, he presses his suspected advantage:  fear.  “If you have foreseen my future, then you know that one day I will be coming for you.  One day, I will be the man to lead the Sith to victory.  For I have foreseen the fall of the Republic.”

 

It’s a reckless threat.  But he came here today to quit and he is now beyond caring.   If anything, Darth Vitiate’s big reveal has alienated him more.  It was the wrong thing to say, at the wrong time, to the wrong man. 

 

Darth Malgus turns on heel and leaves.

 

Again, the shadowy figure on high chuckles. “Oh, you are a credit to me, Lord Malgus.  Go,” Darth Vitiate calls after him in a belated dismissal.  “Stew in your hate and collect your power and come for me.  I look forward to it.” 

 

But rather than focusing on his power, Lord Malgus instead focuses on his writing.  He spends hours at a time editing and enlarging his journal.  It is an outpouring of ideas from a much aggrieved Sith Lord.   

 

He writes on the nature of power and on war as a tool.  He writes on the challenge of leadership and of the benefits of unity.  Of how fear will only get you so far, but loyalty will get you farther.  These are both pragmatic and big picture musings from a lifetime spent living among the Sith Empire as the most successful outsider ever.  Lord Malgus has a perspective that no one else shares and it gives him a remarkably objective view of things. 

 

Peppered in and among his instruction is pragmatic advice.  There is power in pain, Malgus writes from personal experience.   Let adversity and hate fuel your psyche.   Those who seek to diminish you will only bolster you.  Those who seek to impede you will build your resolve.   For determination is the hallmark of a Dark Lord.  We are men who do what must be done.   We do not hesitate.  We show no mercy.  All for the cause of Darkness.  We are men of vision who dare deeds that others run from.  We bear responsibilities that others shirk.  Because we are called to lead. 

 

In hindsight, Lord Malgus sees his personal heartache as a cautionary tale.  And so, he writes it all down for others to learn from.  A Sith Lord can take whatever he wants, and he should.  But he must be vigilant, Lord Malgus writes in his journal.  Hold fast to what is yours.  Possess and protect what you love.  Passion is our path to power, so there is no need to deny oneself a companion.   But be careful to indulge in sentiment only in secret.  Lock away your women and children to safeguard them from your enemies.  Far better that they chafe at your limitations than that they fall victim to treachery.

 

In life, Malgus’ love for Eleena Daru was seen by many as his greatest weakness.  But after her death, that love becomes his greatest strength.  For as Darth Vitiate had admonished, the pain of her loss fuels his power even as it torments his soul.  It makes him Darker in ways he wishes he wasn’t.   But he does not regret her, and that’s not masochism showing, that is Lord Malgus’ humanity fully revealed.  But future Sith through the ages will miss that point entirely.   Darth Malgus will be portrayed either as a ruthless betrayer who loved power more than a woman, or he is a pathetic sop weak for sentiment who loved even when he knew better.   Either way, he set himself up to fail. 

 

The truth is neither of those things.  Lord Malgus was what countless other Sith Lords after him will discover at some point or another to their own chagrin:   he was just a man.   Yes, Lord Malgus was a preeminent warrior of the Dark Side, a man of legendary cunning and strategy, with a Jedi kill count that only Lord Vader and Lord Sidious would surpass.  And yes, he would rule the Sith as Emperor for a short time.  But under all that commitment to Darkness and beneath his zeal for war, existed a beating heart that needed to love and to be loved in return. 

 

That love might have appeared an accident of happenstance.  His beloved was a woman unsuitable in every way whose path only crossed his through a set of strange coincidences.  But Lord Malgus came to see it for what it was—the Force at work.  Eleena Daru was sent to him when he needed her most.  She witnessed the defining moments of his career that would set him on a path to reform the Sith. 

 

But change is hard and it takes time.  More time than Lord Malgus had.  For perhaps it was the message and perhaps it was the prickly, flawed messenger too, but this great Sith Lord never achieved it all.   He fought and fought, opposing his enemies as well as his allies, earning everyone’s begrudging respect.  And for a time, it looked as though he and his ideas might prevail.  But alas, they did not.  Darth Malgus was a False Emperor to some, a false prophet of doom to many, and a failed reformer in his time.  But though the man himself died, his ideas lived on.   They say that the image of great men is woven into other men’s lives, and that is indeed the case with Darth Malgus the New.  His journal would be widely read and passed down through generation after generation, from Sith Master to Dark Apprentice. 

 

And one day, many years later when the Sith were yet again at an existential crossroads, the journal of Lord Malgus inspired a reformer who would ultimately succeed.  A man named Bane studied Lord Malgus’ complaints and saw them with fresh eyes in his own time.  He realized that Lord Malgus was not a failure, but a prophet.  Lord Bane would be the one to devise a simple solution that will both save and forever change the Sith.  Henceforth, there will only be one Master and one Apprentice.  Any conflict between them will be resolved with a sword.  And the two reigning Sith Lords will have only one goal.  It was Lord Malgus’ goal:  to destroy the Jedi and rule the galaxy.   Because somewhere, someday, there will come a Sith hero who will accomplish what Darth Malgus saw in a vision long ago. 

 

More than one man reads Darth Malgus’ journal and sees himself anointed the Sith messiah.  But none of them comes close to achieving that status for over a millennia.  And then, a backbench Senator from a mostly decorative world manipulates a civil war and grabs power in a stunningly transparent move.  Darth Sidious conquers the Republic not from without, but from within.  The wily strategist Darth Malgus would have respected that move. 

 

But Lord Sidious’ rebellious Apprentice reads Malgus’ words and sees himself.  The erstwhile Chosen One, Darth Vader, takes them to heart.  He plots to rule it all with his prodigal Jedi son.  It doesn’t work out.  And in the aftermath, for a time it appears that the cause of the Sith is lost.  But Darkness is eternal, as every Sith Lord worth his saber knows.  And though by then the old ways had twisted and morphed through the intervening years since the Old Sith Empire fell, some things never change. 

 

And that’s when a young man made of equal parts conflict and resolve appears on the scene.  He too will claim power and rule the galaxy.  This latest son of Darkness doesn’t call himself Darth and he says he wants to let the past die.  He’s ready to break with every orthodoxy and do his own thing.  It’s both nihilism and revolution, and no one knows what to make of it.  This man is either brilliant or foolish, maybe both.  Still, he wears flowing black robes and wields a throwback saber with a red blade.  He kills Jedi and he kills his Master, too.  He even sports a mask for a time.  This reform minded Sith who isn’t a Sith has all sorts of issues.  But still . . . the petulant iconoclast Darth Malgus would have approved of Supreme Leader Ren.  For there is a kindred spirit if there ever was one.

 

 

THE END

 


	43. chapter 43--end story notes

Thanks for reading!

 

There is an official EU canon book on Darth Malgus (“Deceived”), but I did not read it.  I worried it would influence me.   I did however read a number of reviews about the book to see what people liked and didn’t like about the story.  Based on what I learned from those reviews, the book depicts the Malgus-Eleena relationship very differently than I have presented.  The conflicts between them seem rather cheesy—for example, Eleena nags at Malgus to quit war and settle down.  Malgus is always freaking out when anyone is rude or mean to Eleena, which happens a lot.  He’s also always interrupting his battles to carry off injured Eleena.   It all struck me as rather tiresome and cliché.  She wants to tame her Sith Lord.  He’s her knight in shining black armor.  And, yeah, he’s also her slave owner.  But whatever.  She’s cool with it.  And, yeah, he does kill her in the end.   Tragic love is a Sith thing, naturally.

 

Apparently, a lot of the book tells you how angry Malgus is.  He is ANGRY and he’s a RAGEFUL SITH so don’t set him off if you know what’s good for you.  THE MAN IS A BEAST.  Are you getting this?  Because the entire characterization of this man seems to revolve around violence.  And, yeah, okay. He’s a Sith. But surely, he can’t be that two dimensional.  All that rage needs a reason and a context.  People think and act they way they do for a reason, even if they cannot articulate that reason.  That’s why I believe a good plot always starts with a good story setting. 

 

But let me caveat again that I have not read _Deceived_.  It might be a terrific book, so perhaps it is unfair for me to malign it.  But I was more interested in what people thought of the book than I was in what the book said.

 

In my head canon, Malgus is a mature man who is repeat power player and striver.  He’s no immature, emotion driven Kylo Ren figure.  Malgus is far more logical and disciplined in his life choices.  And so, when he makes an impulsive, irrational decision—almost all of them involving Eleena—it’s a noteworthy one-off.  He’s a cold, calculating guy ostensibly, but not completely.  For Malgus, like all of us, has complex and sometimes self-destructive or contradictory motivations.  That’s what makes us human and fallible.  Sith Lords are some of the most achingly human characters, and that makes them endlessly fascinating in all their various iterations.

 

As feared, Malgus’ enemies do indeed snare the lovers.  While the Republic might be the one to injure Eleena, and the wartime context exerts a strong influence, Darth Adraas is the main reason she dies.  I wanted her death at Malgus’ hands to be a mercy killing.  It ends her suffering and starts his.  But that suffering is what makes him more powerful and, of course, Darker.  Malgus loves Eleena more than power.  That shouldn’t be a surprise to readers because all along Malgus in private is a very different man from Malgus in public.  Malgus ends up with power as a consolation prize.  He would much prefer love.

 

When I wrote the wedding scene in Chapter 20 of _Fulcrum_ , there is a throwaway line that references Malgus and Eleena.  Some commenter on Ao3 mentioned ‘you do know that Malgus killed Eleena, right??’  Well, yes.  And I love that the version of our lovers’ tale that gets handed down is a version that has Malgus reverting to a super Dark Sith to sacrifice his lover for his own power.  That’s not what happens in my story.  But no doubt, that is the version Malgus wants people to believe.  For Lord Malgus understands the value of Sith posturing.  That’s the irony in the end:  Darth Malgus in the EU comes to be known as a consummate coldhearted Sith. 

 

“There are no happy endings on the Dark Side.”  This is a pervasive theme of my writing.  There is no happy ending to this tale, but it’s not because of the Jedi vs. the Sith.  It’s because of Sith vs. Sith.  The culture of the Sith is so toxic that it cannot allow our lovers to succeed.  The prevalent attitudes and limitations of the Sith culture are a bit of a protagonist in this story.  I wanted to show a rigid society that consumes its best and brightest.  The Rule of Two sort of makes sense after you think long and hard about what the Old Sith Empire must have been like in practice.  In the end, it is the context of the relationship that drags down Eleena and ultimately kills her.  For the culture of the Sith is exceedingly tricky for an outsider like her.   Sith Lords are dangerous men, and just being around them puts you in danger as well.

 

In all my Sith stories, our heroine gets dragged down in some fashion or other.  Sometimes it’s because the relationship is toxic ( _Fulcrum_ , _Fifth Wife_ ) and to survive our girl has to join Team Sith and put up with her no-so-perfect guy.  And sometimes it’s because the scenario is toxic as well—meaning there’s a war, there are enemies etc. who threaten our girl because she’s with her Sith.  This story has a comparatively healthy, wholesome relationship even though it is illicit and extramarital.  In fact, this might be the most normal ‘girl meets Sith’ love story since Sidious and Cresta dating on Coruscant in _Red_.  In many ways, _Darker_ is another version of the tale that _Fifth Wife_ ultimately sets up.  Darth Malgus loses Eleena to his enemies much the same way that Darth Plagueis loses his Jedi wife Shan to Darth Sidious’ “assassination” attempt.

 

I tried to include many nods to the official EU version of events surrounding the Battle of Coruscant.  Darth Malgus does march on his own into the Jedi temple like the Sith Lord version of John Wayne with a sneer on his face.  Eleena does get wounded by deflected blaster shots and thrown into a pillar by Master Zallow when she intervenes to help Malgus.  Malgus helps Eleena afterwards even though they are in front of other Sith Lords.   He gets ridiculed for it.   Adraas is indeed second in command at the temple over Malgus’ objections and Adraas tries to take credit for the success to their mutual boss Darth Angral.  Jedi Master Ven Zallow is a formidable opponent for Malgus and their duel is the showcase of the temple battle.  Some of the minor throwaway Sith Lord characters—Darth Baras, for example—are borrowed from the EU.

 

The Jedi Aryn Leneer is also from the canon version of this tale.  In the EU, she senses her Jedi Master’s death in the Force and leaves the peace talks on Alderaan to sneak past the Coruscant blockade.  She tracks down Eleena to kill her in revenge for Malgus’ killing of her Jedi Master Ven Zallow.  In canon, Leneer badly injures Eleena but declines to kill her.  Then, Malgus arrives to duel with Leneer.  Malgus wins but spares Leneer because she spared Eleena.  That’s when Malgus realizes how weak he is for Eleena and decides to kill her.  

 

My tale omits the duel with Leneer and changes the context, but the basic setting is the same:  Leneer comes for revenge but changes her mind.  Malgus arrives and kills the already wounded Eleena.  My version has Eleena still wounded from the Temple attack rather than wounded a second time on Coruscant by her Jedi attacker.  Quite frankly, I thought that made more dramatic sense and it’s a bit redundant in canon how Eleena keeps getting injured with Malgus showing up glowering about it.  The official story makes Eleena a bit of a perpetual damsel in distress, which I veered away from somewhat.   Also, there is just a lot that happens on Coruscant and I felt the need to edit it down.

 

I think it’s interesting that in the EU Aryn Leneer ends up being thrown out by the Jedi for seeking revenge.  It’s a typical Jedi High Council response to Darkness within one of their members.  But it helps to illustrate just how revolutionary it is to acknowledge less than pure practitioners of Light and Dark in the context of the Jedi/Sith dichotomy.  Basically, it’s impossible for any Jedi or Sith to seek any kind of common ground.  Balance is a concept that threatens both institutional viewpoints. 

 

The role of Darth Adraas in delaying Eleena’s treatment after her injury is from canon.   Eleena does indeed get dumped at a civilian hospital and Malgus searches to find her.   Malgus’ surprise and anger at the aborted Coruscant invasion is canon, too.  He confronts Angral about it.  (Angral disagrees with the Emperor’s decision too.)  Later, Malgus tracks down Adraas to kill him at his personal estate.   Malgus overpowers him with lightning attacks and ultimately chokes him with his bare hands, as depicted in this story.  It is the first test of Malgus’ new Dark power gained by the loss of Eleena.

 

What I write is always about Star Wars but usually motivated by my own life.  _Darker_ is no exception.  This tale is a story of disillusionment.  And that’s a lot how I feel lately.  Not too long ago, my husband and I had a conversation about what it is to be in mid-life.    About how suddenly, all the responsibility for everything is yours.  We have a wonderful life but it’s still so hard.  We have young kids to rear but dying parents to care for too.  Just last week, our beloved housekeeper got a scary cancer diagnosis, and soon we’ll be caring for her too, I expect.  That same day, Mr. Blue and I had been to a funeral for a friend who died way too soon.  When did it happen, I wondered aloud, that all the surprises we get are bad news?  That the email from a friend is news about a personal/professional/family crisis?  That the phone call from my sister informs me that the sheriff’s department picked up my dementia addled mother wandering in her nightgown . . . again?   That at girls’ night, someone has a few drinks and instead of karaoke, they are confessing some awful personal crisis?  We used to get texts and emails that said things like “We’re pregnant!” or “Save the date--we’re engaged!” or “I got the job!”  Now, things are much more grim. 

 

So . . . when do things get easy and carefree once more?  Mr. Blue looked at me and said:  “Never.  That’s the point.”  And, well, he’s right.  That’s not being negative.  That’s just a realistic assessment of the situation.  He feels it at the office since he has a business dependent on him.  And I feel it at home because I do everything else that isn’t his job.  Every now and then, Mr. Blue laments how he used to be so idealistic.  Where did that go?   It fell victim to life.  Because part of confronting your challenges is understanding what you can and can’t change.  But sometimes the futility of it all gets me down. All of that sentiment influenced this story. 

 

This tale is also about the core values of society, how they are expressed, and what it means to stray from them.  _Darker_ recognizes the difficulty of change, be it political or social.  Change is hard to weather and it’s especially hard to steward.  Being an agent of change in any institution is a lot harder than people realize.   It comes with a lot of downsides.   Too often, when people speak truth to power, they get ignored or attacked.

 

Also here are the concerns that despite everything you do, it still won’t be enough to measure up.  And it won’t matter in the end.  The fantasies of chucking it all, telling everyone to go to Hell, and walking away are in this story too.   Seriously, I’m entering prime mid-life crisis time.  And looking around at similarly aged friends, I get it.  I totally get it, whatever it is—the radical career change, the gratuitously expensive purchases, the “mommy makeover” plastic surgery, the extreme exercise and diet goals, even the extramarital affair—that are all ways to exert control and cope with the dissatisfactions of real life.  Those aren’t my vices, but I am far less judgmental about vices as I age.  I understand them better.  Mine is Star Wars fan fiction, I guess.

 

I also wanted to write about how social pressures are real and enduring.  About what it feels like to be conspicuous wherever you go and have people project their biases on you based on what they perceive.  Being unable to conform is something entirely different from refusing to conform, even though it might look the same at first glance.  Some of us draw the eye (or the side eye) in every room whether we want the attention or not.  Feeling like a freak in context of everybody else is no picnic.   Some of that shows in the sense of separateness and judgement that both Eleena and Malgus feel.  It’s the experience of being an outsider with your nose pressed to the glass looking in. 

 

It very revealing how people compliment you.  It often says as much about them as it does you, and so Eleena has some of those awkward moments in this story.  In real life, I seem to be a magnet for those sorts of well-intentioned (sometimes) remarks.   Afterwards, I get flustered and embarrassed and slink away defeated.  Later on, I always think of things I should have said, but did not.  Eleena’s experience living amid the Sith has some of that flavor to it.  Because sometimes even when people are trying to be kind, they are unkind.

 

I wanted to write about how people can be both open minded and closed minded at the same time.

 

I wanted to write about people who have a public face and a private life that don’t quite match up.  Because to succeed they have to play a role that meets others’ expectations. These are people who find work arounds and make-dos because for whatever reason they don't get (or can’t have) what they want in life.  It’s not ideal, but they settle for less because it’s good enough.  These are people who cope and endure.   They are shaped by their experiences—maybe even defined by them—but that doesn’t make them passive.  Just because you are acted upon does not mean that you are not an actor in your own right. 

 

Darth Vitiate is here because he ended up exerting such a Wizard of Oz influence that I wanted him to actually appear as a character.  He’s just an awful guy, super creepy.  The EU is full of ridiculous excesses when it comes to Sith Lords (each one is bigger, badder, more powerful than the next!), but Vitiate sets the standard for crazy Dark Side shit.  He’s what Snoke and Sidious wish they were.  Anyhow, he’s here mostly because I thought I would answer the question of “who’s your Sith daddy?” for Malgus.  Originally, I planned to leave it ambiguous.  But then I re-watched some of the Lucasfilm cinematic trailers involving Malgus and saw a version that shows Malgus’ ultimate end—our hero, the erstwhile False Emperor usurper, ends up frozen in carbonite and presented to Vitiate (who’s now calling himself Valkorian, the Eternal Emperor, in some weirdness I can’t follow on Wookieepedia).  Perfect.  I love the idea of the prodigal son Malgus being dragged home in carbonite and presented to dear old dad by his much younger half-brother who is hoping to win favor.  Now, that’s some Skywalker level family dysfunction!    

 

Vitiate is also here because I am flirting with the idea of a Revan fic, and any Darth Revan story needs Darth Vitiate.  Revan in his original iteration is a maverick Jedi who turns Dark thinking he will save the Republic from a far worse fate---none other than Darth Vitiate.  Revan is choosing the lesser of two evils, a moral compromise that some Jedi condemn and others embrace.  To say it doesn’t go well is an understatement.

 

Again, my apologies for the delay in finishing this story.  I really hate to leave things undone for long.  I think fan fiction works best when it builds to a conclusion.  A story needs to have momentum to its plot and characterization.  Long lapses make that hard to achieve.    Having said that, this story is as I originally intended it to be in all material respects.  The long writing break probably ended up making it better, since it gave me a chance to revisit things from the beginning.  This story was written with its ending in mind—that’s a bit unusual for me.  In fact, the bulk of the penultimate chapter was written very soon after I wrote the opening bit.  I added the last chapter as an afterthought later on.

 

Thank you for reading!

 


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